(I Could Never) Give You Up
by Zenchn
Summary: In the days leading up to the battle with Gangrel, Arkelle (Avatar) finds herself torn between doing what may be best for Ylisse and what she desires in her heart. Exploring multiple characters and POVs!
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! I'm back with an FE: Awakening fic. My sister introduced me to the game, and I'm absolutely head over heels about it. Sorry it's taken me so long to get back to the fan fiction world... it's been a super interesting summer. I also have an SAO fic kind of floating in my head...**

**Anyways, this starts off with femAvatar (name: Arkelle). It's a little different than my MewMew one, mostly because the game is so different. Hope you enjoy it anyway!**

**/Zen**

I never thought I'd have to choose between duty and my heart.

Stepping out from my tent, I strode across camp. My dark blue cloak swirled out behind me. A glance at the sky confirmed the weather matched my mood: it was a dismal day. Gray clouds threatened rain, but that would not dampen the Shepherds' fighting spirits. To my right, between a gap in the tents, I saw Stahl and Sully circling one another in the temporary sparring ring. As she landed a strike he stumbled, and the two of them broke out in laughter.

How was it so easy for them? They began as mere training partners and somehow became more. They didn't let it get complicated. I looked away, biting my bottom lip. I shouldn't be wishing for what could not be. My duty was to Ylisse... but did that mean putting the country's well being before my own happiness?

My boots flattened dirt made choppy from the passage of horses the day before. I had another meeting with the prince – with Chrom. We'd only just won ground yesterday with the defeat of Mustafa, but our next one promised to test every last one of us.

Yet it would be this meeting which I'd find most trying. Because I'd be stuck in a small confined space with Chrom for a couple of hours, and I was no fool. I knew how he'd been looking at me. I just didn't know what to do about it yet. The death of his sister, Emm, was only making this harder.

"Arkelle."

I stopped, but my heart leapt ahead. Lon'qu, our champion swordsman from Regna Ferox, stepped out from between the tents on my left. He paused with several feet still between us, his eyes unreadable.

"What is it?"

He glanced ahead. What was he thinking?

"You're heading to the next strategist meeting?" He asked, still pointedly not looking at me.

"I am."

He nodded and began to walk, one hand resting easily on his two handed sword. It was a simple enough weapon, but in his hands it became an extension of Lon'qu himself. Many enemies had fallen to him.

Hesitating, I followed. With a sideways glance at him, I angled a little closer, closing the distance between us from four feet to three. He grunted and clenched his jaw, but didn't tell me to step away. I fought a smile; I enjoyed messing with his phobias. While deadly with a sword, Lon'qu was dead in the water with a woman. His fear stretched back into his childhood, I was sure. We'd fought and practiced together a hundred times since he'd joined the Shepards, with me always pushing the boundaries of his fear.

I couldn't resist looking over again, and caught a faint mark on his chin. The remnant of a bruise, no bigger than a coin. Before I could stop myself, I let out a laugh.

"What?"

I pointed at his chin. "You've still got a bit of a bruise!"

He grunted but the corner of his mouth quirked upwards. "You have a good throwing arm. For a woman."

"What do you mean for a woman?" I raised an eyebrow then laughed again. "From you I suppose that is to pass for a compliment."

"You had the element of surprise, that is all."

"I _am_ a tactician."

"You snuck into my tent," he reminded me.

"I had to get the advantage somehow," I replied with a shrug. "It's what I do."

Lon'qu said nothing, but pulled back the tent flap for me to enter. Right. The meeting. I ducked through and straightened. He stayed by the entrance, and I felt the absence of his presence at my side. On the battlefield we were always stronger together, and I missed that certainty now.

"You're here," Chrom said, "good. Your strategies may be the only thing that pulls us through this next battle." He stood across the table from me, cloak dirty from weeks of travelling, armor dinted, but blue eyes aflame. Pain was bright there, the pain he buried for his sister Emm. At the same time I felt sorry for him, I knew his desire for revenge had to be curbed before it determined all our fates. It was also that fresh wound that was causing him to search me out more and more.

"Good to see you again tactician." Flavia stood next to Basilio, her hands clasped behind her back. She was stern woman – muscular and blond. "And you, Lon'qu. Your sword will be invaluable."

"Still trying to cut the jar without shattering it?" Basilio asked, a grin on his dark-skinned face. He broke out into laughter before Lon'qu could answer.

"Jar?" Chrom asked.

"Why would I waste my time on something so trivial?" Lon'qu asked from his position near the entrance. "There is no use in such a skill."

"Is that so?" Basilio asked in his booming voice. There was a glint in his eyes suggesting he knew otherwise.

I cleared my throat, stepping closer to the table and the map spread out overtop it. "Gangrel's fortress."

"Yes," Chrom replied, his gaze following mine. "He thinks us weak, but we will not lose. We _will_ have peace again. For Emm."

I glanced sharply at him and noticed Flavia do the same. Regna Ferox would not follow a disillusioned leader, and Chrom was dangerously toeing the line of grief and disillusionment. He could not be allowed to become obsessed with revenge. I should –

"Sorry I'm late!" Lissa stumbled into the room, her cheeks flushed from running. She pulled up short of running into Lon'qu, who jumped backwards. "Oh, hi," she said, the colour in her cheeks deepening.

"Lissa." Chrom's gaze softened as he looked upon his younger sister. His _only_ sister, now. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be practicing healing with Libra?"

The blonde princess shook her head. "I may not be a good fighter yet," she said, "but Emm was my sister too. You can't run Ylisse by yourself," she added, "our kingdom will need both of us."

"She has a point," I said before he could protest, "there's no harm in her learning. And you _could_ use all the help you can get."

"Thanks," he grunted.

"Agreed," Flavia said, backing me up. She stood with her hands on her hips and shoulders thrown back. "A leader should understand their role and as much of the roles of others as is possible. Knowledge is as much a strength as muscle."

Basiliobroke in with a hearty laugh. "Seems they've got you backed into a corner boy!"

"So it seems," Chrom replied, his eyes meeting mine across the table. I looked down at the map again. Why did he have to make it so hard? Even with a table between us, I felt drawn to him. It felt so natural, but then why was I fighting so hard?

"Gangrel will expect us to play it safe," I told them after clearing my throat. I had to focus. "It's risky, but I suggest we split into two groups. In order to have the advantage, we have to do something he will _not_ expect."

"That would make us vulnerable," Chrom argued.

"It's bold," Basilio said, "I like it."

"It's bold and daring," I agreed. "From what we've heard from the locals, the set up is pretty basic. Of course, we'll need to set up a scouting mission."

"I was thinking about that," Chrom said. His gloved hand tapped the map and he frowned. "I know Gauis won't want to do it, but-"

"We could tell him there's candy in it for him!" Lissa piped up.

Chrom smirked. "Actually, I was going to suggest that v-"

"Did someone mention candy?" Gauis popped into the tent, his red hair hanging in his eyes and a lollipop dangling from his hand. His wary eyes searched the tent, disappointed at finding us candy-less. "Not even a toffee? How are you still living?"

"Yes," Lissa said. "We were just talking about you!"

He stepped in cautiously. "Why do I have a feeling I'm about to get conned into a tasteless job..."


	2. Chapter 2

**It's so good to be writing here again! Thanks for the feedback so far :)**

**/Zen**

* * *

"Arkelle, will you wait a moment please?"

I stopped at the tent flap. The others had already left except for Lon'qu and Lissa. She filed out ahead of me and as I took a deep breath, I looked at Lon'qu. He regarded me with calm eyes before turning and exiting as well.

Turning around I said, "Yes?"

Chrom paused, giving the others a few minutes to put distance between themselves and the tent. "Thank you for being here today," he said, coming around the table we'd poured over for several hours. He leaned back against it, finally letting some of the tension relax from his shoulders.

"Where else would I have been?" I asked, smiling back. I couldn't help it. I was tired, and seeing him like that, leaning back like he was at ease, made me want to feel like that too. Ever since Emm had jumped to save her people – ever since that day, I'd been wound tight as a bedspring.

"Yes well, I wanted you to know your efforts _are_ appreciated. It is important that Ylisse win this battle – not just for me and Emm, but for our people. For your people," he added.

"We don't even know who my people are," I said, laughing. I had been with the Shepherds for long enough that I'd almost forgotten that I had no past to speak of. "For all you know, I could be the enemy!"

The look he gave me was deadly serious and fairly took my breath away. "You could never be the enemy."

What could I say to that? Unfortunately, I let the silence hang on just long enough to become awkward. I cleared my throat and looked down. "Thank you. For everything that you've done for me. Given me work and the opportunity to prove myself – to better myself. Who knows where I would be without the Shepherds?"

"Probably still in a field," he teased, a smile changing his face to a more light-hearted expression.

"Likely, yes," I agreed, recalling the day he, Lissa, and Freddy had found me. "I'm sure glad Freddy stopped following me around like a cat."

"Did he really?" Chrom asked.

I nodded. "Oh yeah. He followed me around for days if not weeks to make sure I wasn't secretly a spy, like some kind of shadow. Like Tharja, actually, although less creepy." I laughed at the thought. "I don't think he knew I was aware of him, but I didn't want to stop him. He is far too loyal for his own good you know."

"I know it," Chrom said, although the smile on his face was fond. "Frederick has been with my family for a long time, and sometimes his sense of duty does take him a bit too far. I've tried to talk to him about it, but I'm afraid I just insulted him!"

"Honestly I don't know if you _could_ insult Freddy..."

"Does he actually allow you to call him Freddy?" Chrom asked, somewhat surprised.

I gave him a wicked smile. "I hadn't exactly asked his permission. It may have bothered him at first, but I do believe he's grown used to it."

"You are devious," he laughed. It was good to see him laugh, to see him so at ease. I hoped after all of this was over that there would be more occasion for laughter.

"Thank you milord," I replied, stifling a yawn.

"None of that 'milord' stuff okay?" he said, shaking his head. "You _must _be exhausted. Sorry for keeping you late, but I do enjoy getting to speak with you about... well things other than tactics."

"Not a worry," I replied. "But you're right, I am quite tired. I'll grab some supper then head off to my own tent. What time is my watch tonight, do you know?"

Chrom shook his head. "Sorry, but I've left the night watch to Gregor. Maybe see if you can catch him in the mess tent?"

I nodded and bade him goodnight before stepping out. The evening air was cool; I couldn't believe the meeting had taken so long or that it had been so warm in there. I raised a hand to my cheek, finding it warmer than I would have liked. Perhaps it was not just the atmosphere. The image of Chrom's blue eyes came back to me. The easy way he'd smiled and laughed.

Cursing myself, I marched back through the tents. The mess tent was loud with hooting and hollering. Sully's voice reared up above it all, and I found my good humour returning. That red head had an opinion she was never afraid to share. She was brave, if a little reckless. Then I heard Gregor's telltale laugh. My stomach grumbled and that settled it.

The south side of the tent was open to the outdoors with the flap rolled up and tied with a thick cord, and it was a good thing considering the amount of people that liked to crowd into it. The smell of food and unwashed leather did not always mix pleasantly.

"Arkelle!"

With a laugh I accepted the bowl of soup Stahl handed me.

"I'm full to the brim," he said, patting his stomach, "but there's still leftovers. It's some kind of carrot soup – I had to come up with something Panne would eat." He jerked his thumb to the taguel who stood at the very edge of the crowd. She had skin the colour of buttermilk, thick dark hair with her trademark long ears braided into it, and convenient patches of fur on her body. Despite that, she was still very beautiful. And deadly.

"I'm surprised you got her here at all," I said, cradling the bowl of soup closer.

"Well, it did take some work," Stahl replied sheepishly, glancing at the fierce woman. "I nearly poisoned her first."

I'd just taken my first spoonful and choked on it. "You what?" I coughed.

"It was an accident! I didn't know she couldn't eat potatoes!" He shook his head. "Anyways, that's why it's carrot soup. Is it okay?"

I cleared my throat. "From what I've tasted, it's not bad. Thanks."

He nodded and headed back into the fray. I edged my way in.

"Ah," Gregor said in his big booming voice, "you have come to be with joining of laughter, yes?"

You couldn't help but smile when Gregor spoke. "If I must," I said, feigning exasperation.

He clutched a large hand to his chest. "Ugh! You be hurting Gregor somewhat fierce! Like sharp knife to bone."

"Aw can it you big lump," Sully said, smacking his shoulder. She raised an eyebrow. "Good to see you survived the meeting, you guys were in there for ages!"

"Three hours and forty two minutes, to be exact," Tharja said, appearing at my elbow.

I nearly dropped my soup. "Tharja! When did you get here?" When she just gave me a dark smile in answer, I shook my head. "Nevermind. But could you _please_ stop doing that? It's... creepy."

"Are you suggesting I should be something other than what I am? Our fates have us entwined, Arkelle. You cannot avoid it," she added with a creepy little chuckle at the end. She had her black cloak clutched tightly about her. Her long hair was so dark it nearly blended into the fabric.

"Well I can do my best to avoid it," I grumbled. Clearing my throat, I turned back to Gregor who was looking at Tharja with raised brows. "Gregor can you tell me... I can't remember what time my watch is tonight?"

"Hm? Oh!" He let out a booming laugh. "Do not be with the worrying, Gregor fetch you for watching. Go, be getting sleep. You look ready to fall asleep on feet!"

He wasn't wrong. I finished my soup quickly and slipped away, hoping Tharja wasn't following.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys, new perspective here! Thanks for the comments/reviews so far; I'm glad to see so many FE fans :)** **Gregor is one of my favourite chars in the game. I don't know why - maybe it's the accent - but I love this guy. Hope you enjoy him too!**

**/Zen**

* * *

With night falling quickly, Gregor stood and stretched. His body was beginning to feel its age, but only just. He'd been a mercenary most of his grown life, and he wasn't about to give up the lifestyle any time soon. He groaned and patted his stomach.

"You manspawn can eat a ridiculous amount of food."

Raising an eyebrow, he glanced over at Panne. The dark-haired taguel was lounging at the far end of the mess tent. He thought she'd been asleep earlier, but apparently she'd fooled him. With everyone else off to bed, it was just the two of them.

"Gregor has healthy appetite," he said with a grin. "Man must eat much to keep up strength, yes?"

She wrinkled her nose, but said nothing. With a nod in her direction – he was nothing if not polite – he headed out through the camp. Night watch would begin soon, and his was the first shift. In fact, he meant to keep it most of the night. Arkelle was stretching herself much too thin; if the girl was not careful she'd pass right out. Where would they be then?

Gregor never used to much care for tacticians. He liked to be his own man. Before he'd joined the Shepherds, he'd relied on his own sword and brain to get him from day to day. He'd never had to think of others, only of the job.

He'd only had to look after himself.

But here, things were different. Without someone doing so much of the thinking and the planning, they might have died at any of the battles. Arkelle was a little strange, but she was quick to laugh and sharp too. He could admire that. She was a good judge of character and strengths. She was also pretty strong herself – just as quick with the sword as she was with her magic.

Shaking his head, he skirted around the sparring ring and headed to the north edge of camp. There was a rock there he meant to prop his back up against. It was just far enough from the tents and firelight to be bathed in darkness, which would make it the perfect spot to be watching from.

Re-adjusting his sword belt, Gregor crossed his big arms and peered out across the grassy slopes in front of him. It was relatively flat land, but there was a gentle swooping to it, and just enough brush and trees to make for good hiding places should the enemy try to root them out in the middle of the night. It would not happen on his watch.

Some time later, when the sky had fully darkened and the stars had appeared above like pure-white pin pricks, Tharja appeared at his elbow.

Cursing under his breath, he jumped back from the girl. In her black cloak and with her dark hair, she blended into the night a little too well.

"Tharja, why you scaring Gregor?" he asked.

"You should be grateful I'm not the enemy. It was too easy to sneak up on you. Just a little invisibility spell," she said, eying him with a half-lidded gaze. Her dark lashes nearly disappeared into her bangs, giving her a sultry and dangerous look for someone so small.

"Well," he said, clearing his throat, "since Tharja is here anyway... Gregor is needing to ask question. Is all right, yes?"

She leaned back from him a bit, her eyes narrowing. "I'm busy."

"Ah! But you are here. Or maybe you are not wanting to be seen talking to old man like Gregor?"

"Age has nothing to do with it," she replied. It was only then he noticed the thickly bound book she was clutching to her chest, almost like a shield. The writing on it was a golden script that sent chills down his spine, even though he could not read it. "I'm just not interested in talking," she added.

"Tharja could pretend to not liking old man smell at least," he said with a laugh. "Then Gregor is less insulted."

"You could smell like roses and fresh cut grass. It wouldn't matter."

"Little girl has tongue like snake. Very sharp," he said, wincing.

Tharja shifted where she stood, the soft fabric of her cloak rustling with the movement. "I said I didn't want to talk to you... so why are you still talking?"

"Old man like Gregor only hears what he wants," he replied, grinning now. He gave her a wink. "Very useful skill in life, yes?"

"That... would explain why my curses never work on you."

"What?" The grin dropped from his face and he felt a chill, though there was no wind. "Why would you be trying to cast evil hex on poor Gregor?"

"What does it matter? The damned spell didn't work anyway," she said bitterly.

"Ah-ha! Gregor is immune to your witchery! I make you look like... how you say? Fool? Amateur?"

She glowered at him, her knuckles white as she clutched her book of spells. "Go ahead and mock me, old man," she told him. "I'll have my revenge, just you wait..." She spun on her heel and walked out into the dark, away from the camp.

"Wait!" he called after her. "Gregor is still having long list of questions to ask!" But she was gone. He shrugged and scratched the back of his head. He wasn't sure if he should be worried about her threat, given that the last hex she'd tried to stick on him apparently hadn't worked anyways. Plus, it was his policy not to worry about things he could do nothing about. If the dark beautiful girl wanted to curse him, she'd do it whether he acted nicely towards her or not.

But Chrom had let her into the camp, so she couldn't be that bad. Still... he glanced out into the night where she'd disappeared. There was something about her that was unsettling, something that tickled at the back of his mind. It wasn't a feeling he was used to.

"Maybe Gregor really IS getting to be old man," he muttered under his breath. He needed to stop worrying about things best left to others and stick to what he was good to. And stop thinking about girls younger than himself. Girls with dark, soul-searching eyes.

Patting his sword where it rested against his hip, he swept his gaze across the dark night.

* * *

**If you recognized bits of the convo here, congrats! I love their supports 3  
**

**/Zen**


	4. Chapter 4

**It's Wednesday! Thanks for the reviews everyone - Enjoy~**

** Aurora: Choosing the char marriages was super difficult but also super fun for me. Chrom is also a great angsty character heh. I hope you keep reading :)**

**/Zen**

* * *

To my horror, I woke with the dawn. Flying out of my bedroll, I grabbed my cloak and shoved my boots on. I stumbled outside and right into Gregor.

"Ah, Arkelle awake now," he said with a grin.

"Gregor, why didn't you get me?" I demanded. It was barely morning, with the sky a blue so faint it was nearly gray. "I was supposed to be on watch!"

"Ah, but you work self too hard," he replied then shrugged. "Gregor let you sleep. Is no problem."

"It _is_ a problem," I insisted. "If I don't pull my weight-"

"Who not pulling weight?" he asked. "You not weigh much anyway." He gave a great yawn that threatened to snap his jaw in two. "Ah but Gregor is tired. Gregor getting much too old to be staying up such late nights."

With that the infuriating mercenary headed off to his tent. He might play dumb and pretend his age was getting to him, but Gregor was as sharp as the end of his sword. He knew exactly what he'd been doing when he stayed up all night. I _had_ to pull my own weight with the Shepherds. The last thing I needed was for them to start thinking I was getting special privileges.

Grumbling, I stomped off towards the sparring grounds. The morning air was cold on my bare shoulders, reminding me I was still only in my breeches and light shirt with my cloak and sword belt clutched in my left hand. Maybe getting some practice in would slew off my frustration.

The trampled ring was empty when I got there. I heard the faint strain of conversation from the direction of the mess tent, but I wasn't ready to eat anything. I wasn't ready to talk to anyone yet either.

Draping my cloak over a post, I unsheathed my sword. The practice dummy waited a few feet away.

I set my feet on the packed earth and took a calming breath. Energy I could use, but anger would make me sloppy. Even in practice I had to be concise. Two smooth steps forward and I swung my sword upward, using the impact of the hit to turn me around the far side of the dummy. A downward cut sliced through the air with the faintest of whistles. I spun again, my feet sure of their steps.

The clang of metal meeting metal rang through the morning quiet. With wide eyes I met Chrom's gaze. His falcion held my blade back. He'd left his cape on the side and stood in his sleeveless navy blue tunic. A faint breeze rustled his hair across his brow.

He swung his blade down, letting mine slide across its length and then come free. For a moment we stood there, facing each other. I brought my sword up and evened out my stance. He did the same. Then we were moving.

Chrom was strong and moved fluidly, but he lacked the finesse of Lon'qu. I'd learned from both of them, however, and could fend for myself. His sword sliced down from above and I sidestepped under his arm, using my shorter stature to slip behind him and forcing him to follow me. My blade was already heading for his ribs, but he deflected it.

Tightening my grip on the handle, I rolled and tried to come behind him again. This time he sprang away, dark blue eyes narrowing.

He charged, his blade level with my throat. I merely turned my body and used my leg to trip him. Of course, the Prince of Ylisse was not so easily deposed. We both spun and our swords crossed loudly. He laughed softly and for a moment we just stood there, breathing hard and looking at one another. _I should look away_, I thought. But I couldn't.

Chrom was magnetic. It was so easy to get along with him and forget he was a Prince. Forget he had a duty to Ylisse, the Shephereds, and his people. I could anticipate him easily – there wasn't much to figure out. He worked with single-minded purpose and was often hot-headed. In the short time I'd been with the Shepherds, I'd learned to anticipate his commands and how to nudge him in the right direction. He would make a decent ruler one day, but he was still learning.

It was too easy to forget he was a man, too. I could tell by the way he looked at me – by the way he looked at me now – that if I were to say something to suggest I felt for him that he would return it with feeling. We would be good for Ylisse. The Prince and a tactician? We could create the peace he wanted so much, and I would never go without. It was the tactical choice.

But my heart was being so troublesome. It nagged at me, bringing to my mind the image of a quiet, unassuming swordsman. One who smiled rarely but when he did my heart fluttered like a butterfly. One who always had my back without having to say a word. Lon'qu was capable, funny when caught off guard, and just a look from him made me melt. He was rarely predictable.

My heart, or my duty? Lon'qu or Chrom? A part of me didn't want to choose. If I just kept fighting and ignoring the dilemma, a part of me hoped it would go away. But it wouldn't. I felt heavy with the inevitability that my choice was approaching – and I didn't know what I would do. Ylisse would need a tactician as much as it needed a ruler, but did I have to be married to him? Did I want to be?

"Sweet moves, but ain't it a little too early in the mornin' for that?"

We stepped apart, swords lowered. Gauis stood with his foot up on a log that had been acting as a bench. Sumia and Stahl sat there as well. They clapped appreciatively. I felt a blush rise in my cheeks and was suddenly glad I hadn't said a word.

"Never too early for practice," Sully said, joining us. "You guys had the same idea as me!"

Chrom nodded at the red head. "Agreed. It was too good an opportunity to pass up," he added, glancing at me. I lowered my eyes, not wanting him to read anything in them.

"Yeah well, I'm going to be off if it's all the same to you, Blue," Gauis replied, raising a lollipop to his mouth. Despite looking disinterested, I knew he was raring to go. He was dressed and prepped – with an insane amount of sweets hidden in his numerous pockets, no doubt.

"Have you chosen who you want to go with you?" I asked, walking over and re-sheathing my sword. It was cold, I realized. Then I remembered that I hadn't put my cloak on. Gods! I'd been sparring with the prince in little more than my undershirt!

Swallowing hard and trying to convince myself it hardly mattered and that there was nothing to be embarrassed about, I slid my arms into the sleeves of my cloak.

"Yeah," Gauis said, scratching the back of his neck. "I guess I can take your advice, Bubbles. Except for Stumbles here," he jerked his thumb at Sumia who blushed scarlet. "Don't get me wrong sugar, you're a great fighter. Just no good at sneaking around."

"No, you're right," she admitted, looking down at her hands. I would have to do something about her lack of self-confidence, but Gauis had a point – if there was anything around the girl could trip on, she would.

"Alright," I said, "then who are you taking?"

"Don't get your licorice in a twist. I'll take the bottomless pit here and the taguel, as well as the princess."

"I don't remember saying Lissa could go," Chrom said with a frown. He'd refastened his cloak and sheathed his sword as well. Right now he looked every bit the prince and, I had to admit, handsome.

"You don't get to give me permission," the blonde princess said as she appeared from between two of the tents. She held her staff tightly and her eyes were bright. "I want to go."

"Lissa-"

"Chrom, I'm going," she said firmly, "you can't stop me."

As I watched, he ground his jaw. I knew he wouldn't like it, but I also knew she wanted to go. Gauis walked over to Chrom and put his hand on the prince's shoulder. Quietly, but not so quietly I couldn't hear, he said:

"Don't worry, I'll keep an eye on her."

Chrom nodded reluctantly, although he didn't look away from his sister. It would be hard on him, letting his little sister go scouting into the hold of his enemy. But she had to, I assured myself. She had something to prove, and there was only one way for that to happen – she had to have a chance. With Gauis watching over her, she'd be fine.

Gods I hoped so.

"Do I have time to grab a snack before we go?" Stahl asked, standing up from where he'd been sitting next to Sumia.

"Always thinking of your stomach," Sully laughed. She smacked his arm and grinned.

"I can't help it," he replied, returning the smile.

"Manspawn with the ever empty stomach," Panne called as she came into view. Her dark eyes were brooding, but she held several wrapped packages.

"Er, yes?" Stahl replied.

"I knew you would be whining for food already," she replied, shoving the packages at him. "I hope these will slake your hunger. I do not want to have to stop every few miles to quiet the rumbling of your gut."

"Thanks!" He unwrapped one of them immediately and chomped down.

"Hey, what about me?" Gauis demanded. "I'm leading this mission thing, did you grab anything sweet?"

"What do I look like, a pack horse?" she returned with a glare. They stared at each other for a long moment before Gauis looked away and pulled a toffee from a pocket, grumbling under his breath.

"Are you sure they will make a good team?" Chrom asked quietly, leaning towards me. He was warm and he smelled good – earthly and of clean sweat.

I chuckled under my breath. "They'll be fine. They might seem dysfunctional now, but they know how to pull together. Don't worry."

I was trying to heed my own advice as we walked to the edge of camp and watched them head out toward Gangrel's hold.


	5. Chapter 5

**Ah the plots thicken ;)**

**/Zen**

* * *

Gregor hefted the new practice swords Cordelia had crafted over his shoulder. Each one made for a different Shepherd, with height and strength in mind. The girl was sometimes almost too good, but he'd promised to take them over to the ring – he figured maybe some practice would be just what he needed. He couldn't allow himself to get fat or lazy as they waited for the scouts to return.

Rounding a tent corner, he paused. Just up ahead he saw Tharja and Nowi talking.

Gregor took a step back into the shadows and held very still, listening. It wasn't that he didn't trust Tharja exactly, he told himself, but he felt protective of Nowi. The little manakete, while ferocious in her dragon form, often didn't know how to keep herself out of trouble. And Tharja _was_ trouble.

"Speaking of talons," Tharja was saying, "I need some of your nail clippings. Just a sliver or two will suffice."

Nail clippings? What the heck did the girl need those for? Unless it was another one of her hexes. Nowi seemed just as confused.

"Um… what for?" the wee one asked.

"Manakete talons are used in dark-mage divinations," Tharja replied, shifting so that her long black hair sifted over her shoulder. "I want to see what the future holds for me and Arkelle."

Gregor snorted softly. Of course she did.

"Oh my gosh, you can tell fortunes? That's amazing!" Nowi brightened at the thought and pulled a bag from her cloak. "Here's a bag of my toenail clippings!... Yes, I saved them. Don't ask why. Long story. Slightly gross. But! If you take these, I get to ask the first fortune. Deal?"

Tharja made a show of yawning. "I suppose," she drawled, "you want me to find your true love."

"What? No! Don't you dare poke around in my love life!" Even from where Gregor stood he could see Nowi blushing. "No, I want you to find out about my mom and dad. Like, where they are, and if they're safe, and all that. Can you do it?"

Now that, Gregor thought, was an interesting request. He waited to see what Tharja would say. She took a moment to think about it.

"Yes," she said at last. "Give me your clippings, and I shall begin the preparations."

Nowi grinned, thanked her, and skipped off. It was almost like Tharja was the one doing her the favour, but Gregor was not so sure. If the dark girl wanted those clippings, there was definitely going to be something in it for her.

"You can come out of hiding now," Tharja called. She turned, her dark eyes going right to him.

"Who is hiding?" he asked. "Not Gregor."

"Oh really? Then you weren't eavesdropping on our conversation?"

He shrugged, shifting his load of practice swords. "Gregor might been hearing some words of fortunes, but just may be hearing things."

"You should be careful what conversations you listen in on," she replied, eying him from under thick lashes. Did she realize how hypnotizing she could be when she did that? _Probably_, he thought.

"Maybe Tharja is one should be careful," he told her, looking away and scratching his neck with a free hand. "Nowi is not knowing better than be trusting everyone."

"Are you _threatening_ me?" She looked so surprised he had to laugh.

"Ah no! Gregor not having to threaten. He already know Tharja smart enough not to hurt Nowi, yes? Little one has put much trust in you."

Having gotten over her surprise, Tharja narrowed her eyes to slits and pursed her lips. "I got what I came for," she said, holding up the bag Nowi had given her. "I've nothing more to say to you."

"What," Gregor called after her as she turned on her heel, "Tharja does not like talking with anyone she cannot be with the hexing?"

"I should inflict a permanent silence curse on you, old man," she hissed, whipping around to face him again. Her cloak swirled like a dark thundercloud around her body.

He laughed. "Ah but spells not work on Gregor! You are remembering this?"

"I have _never_," she said, punctuating each word with a step and a jab in his direction, "been this angry – in my entire life!"

For his part, he was quite amused. Angry Tharja should be terrifying – and if he didn't know about her inability to curse him he might actually be nervous. But short of hitting him, she couldn't do a thing. The thought made him grin.

"You should forget with all the anger and the making of clenched fists," he told her, waving her arguments aside with his free hand. "Beside, I am still having questions to be asking Tharja."

"Really?" Tharja lifted her chin stubbornly. "Perhaps I do not want to be speaking with you."

"Ah but Tharja cannot really be disliking Gregor so much," he grinned. "You protect blindside on battlefield, yes?"

She glared at him and crossed her arms. "I have use for you yet," she replied. "Once I figure out why my curses don't work, then anything can happen to you and I won't care. I can't have you run through with a sword before I figure it out."

"You are sure that is what keeps you protecting Gregor?"

"And what of you?" she demanded. "You've practically glued yourself to my side – why?"

"Gregor protects all lovely ladies – even evil girl," he added with a wink.

Tharja didn't budge. She continued to give him that hard-eyed stare, which he admitted was somewhat intimidating. Only a little. And the load on his shoulder was beginning to become uncomfortable.

"Alright," he sighed, placing his free hand over his heart, "is because Gregor needs still to ask Tharja question."

"You and your questions," she said, her mouth twisting around the word. Then she paused, her head tilting to one side as a thought came to her. "Or perhaps a favour?"

She was too quick, this one. He opened his mouth to deny it, but she cut him off.

"Maybe next time," she said, giving him a scathing look from top to bottom. "I have… other things to attend to."

Grumbling, Gregor watched her go. There wasn't much he could do. Push her too far – tease her too much – and she might never grant him the favor when he _did_ get the chance to ask. And he did plan to ask. He'd had it in mind for some time now, and he meant to have an answer.

He needed to.


	6. Chapter 6

**Double update for you guys! (I love all the characters, it's so hard to choose who gets screen time!) Enjoy~**

**/Zen out**

* * *

The day was so gray I wondered if Tharja had cast a gloom hex over the camp. Thick clouds muted the sun and I shivered, wrapping my cloak tightly around me.

"Chilly?"

I turned around and saw Ricken standing there. He was smiling, although there was a hint of uncertainty around the edge of his mouth. There always was with Ricken. A skilled mage for one his age, he was always searching to prove his worth. He doubted himself almost as much as Sumia, although he was twice as capable.

"Ricken," I said. "How are you? Did you get your letter written?"

"Erm, not really..."

I sighed but smiled. "It can't be that difficult to put a quill to paper."

"I just can't think of the right words to say," he said with a frown.

"Well you have to say something. If you don't, your parents might think something terrible has happened!"

"I know," he said miserably. "But, it's just... I come from an old, respected house. And lately my family name has fallen into serious disrepair. So this war is about more than saving the world. At least for me. It's about restoring my family name – and I can't go home until I've done it."

I nodded. "That's a lot of pressure to put on yourself, Ricken. You really should write that letter though – they deserve to know you're still in one piece."

He eyed me suspiciously. "Are we going to start talking about dismembering again?" he asked. "Because I do _not_ dismember Risen and I am still in one piece last time I checked."

"Yeah, Lissa wouldn't let you fall apart anyway," I teased then laughed when I saw him blushing. He was such a sweetheart, and almost too young. But who was I to say? "Come on," I said, patting him on the shoulder, "let's at least get some practice in then."

"Oh good," he said, clearing his throat. "I could use some help with my tomes. I've reached a chapter where-"

"Slow down there speedy," I said, holding up a hand. "If you want technical tome advice you need to ask Miriel. For practice you come to me."

"Yeah but-"

"Hey, no buts," I laughed. "I don't even remember my own past let alone how this stuff makes sense," I said, tapping the wind tome he held in his hand.

"Yeah I guess. It's just that Miriel isn't very..." he trailed off, searching for a word.

"Friendly?" I supplied.

He shrugged and wrinkled his nose. "She keeps trying to do experiments on me, so it's not all that helpful."

"Yeah I could see that," I said, laughing again. "She is seriously science-minded. Okay, come on. Let's find a spot and I'll have a look at it. I'm not promising anything though!"

We moved through camp to the far side of the sparring ring. Which was probably a bad idea. Lon'qu was there practicing with Flavia, although the way they practiced you might think the outcome of the war depended on their next move.

Neither of them glanced our way as we passed, and we didn't make a sound either. For those from Regna Ferox, battle was first and foremost. You fought and fought hard. They had their competitions and their champions alright –Lon'qu had been Basilio's champion prior to joining the Shepherds – but fighting was different for them. I had the feeling they might have felt insulted if we'd said anything.

Ricken watched wide-eyed as we passed. He was a talented mage, but a sword fighter he was not. Maybe I ought to encourage him to get some teaching. Not from Lon'qu. He didn't consider himself enough of a master to be teaching anyone. Maybe Chrom. If he had time. Or Gregor.

I'd have to figure something out. No one should have to rely on just one weapon – and what happened if he was stuck in a situation where magic could not help him? I didn't want him to ever be helpless. I wanted him to understand the advantage of having multiple skills – of having a secret weapon. I was practiced in magic myself and my sword skills were only just below those. No matter what came, I would be always prepared.

"How about here?" Ricken asked, pointing to a large rock settled in the shade of two scraggly trees. It was close enough to still view the sparring ring, but far enough that if we decided to do some practice of our own we wouldn't be interfering with the others.

"Alright, have a seat kid. Where did you want to start?"

Ricken cracked open the tome and we poured over the pages. His book was old, older than my own. I wondered if he'd brought it from his family's estate, if it had maybe been passed down through the generations. The writing was in cramped black ink too, making it hard to read in some places or smudged in others by a hasty hand.

He was really into it though. His questions were direct and he learned quickly. I'd never really taught anyone anything before. Most of the stuff I knew – the tactics, the magic, some of my sword fighting – came as a reflex. I assumed before I'd woken in that field, in my previous life, I must have had a lot of training, but I couldn't remember a lick of it. And because I couldn't remember it, it didn't make me a very good teacher. Yet Ricken was good at asking the right questions – questions I could answer. Even if I didn't know the answer right away, I knew how to help him figure it out.

After a while I stretched and blinked. The clouds had cleared away some and the sun had come out, although it was heading towards evening. I hadn't even noticed. Lon'qu and Flavia had left the sparring ring – how long ago I wasn't sure – and Sully worked with Kellam now. It was good to see him interacting with _someone_. The heavily-armored knight tended to fade into the scenery and kept to himself most of the time.

Next to me, Ricken yawned. Then my stomach growled and we both laughed.

"I wonder if we missed supper!" he exclaimed suddenly, sitting upright.

"Was something special supposed to be served today?" I asked, smiling as I watched him smash his pointed hat back on his head and gather up his book and notes.

"No I just..." he stopped before blurting out: "I don't want to miss a meal – I have to get taller!"

"Oh Ricken," I laughed. "Go on, I won't keep you from your growth spurt."

He flushed but dashed off. The poor kid was always worried about being too small or too slow or not strong enough. Eventually he'd realize he was doing just fine.

"He is a very determined boy."

I looked over my shoulder and saw Lon'qu standing there. He didn't look as though he'd been through a rigorous workout earlier. He looked calm and collected, his clothing worn and faded but not out of place. I smiled at him, trying to ignore whatever it was that was doing backflips in my stomach.

"Young man," I corrected him. "Ricken is becoming a fine young man. He's pushing himself pretty hard, but he's getting there."

"We all push ourselves," he replied. I had the feeling he was really directing that at me, but I pretended I didn't notice.

"He has a lot to live up to I guess," I said instead. "I think I'm going to have to get someone to teach him the sword too, so that he doesn't just have to rely on one weapon."

Lon'qu stepped up next to me, hands clasped behind his back. "He does not have the focus or the discipline for it."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Are you saying magic doesn't take discipline?"

"What? Er no..." he cleared his throat. "It is a different kind of discipline, one over the body as much as the mind. Ricken has spent much time on the mind... not so his body."

"It can be done," I said with a shrug. "I don't like the idea of him being defenceless should something happen that he's in a situation where he can't use his magic."

"Is that why you learned the sword?"

I looked up at him and found him looking down at me with unreadable, searing eyes. I couldn't say a word, I just looked back at him for a long moment that seemed it would stretch endlessly. There was a strength about him, something that almost seemed to emanate like heat from a fire. It wasn't overbearing or pompous or anything like that. It was... comforting. I liked the feeling. I liked being near him.

Maybe a little too much.

I forced my gaze to break from his and took a breath before speaking. My voice sounded raw. "I don't remember learning the sword," I told him. "But if I thought about it now, I would do it so I would always be ready. A person in a world like this, especially fighting as we are, needs to be able to protect not only themselves but each other. If one of us ever fails, it could risk our own lives and those of others. I couldn't live with that."

I looked up at him again, but he had turned and his eyes looked out across the tents. Slowly, he nodded and then he walked away.


	7. Chapter 7

Gauis scrambled up the next rise, trying to ignore how loud Lissa was as she tried to follow. He could only do so much. Her sneaking skills were only minimally better than Sumia's in that she didn't fall on her face every five seconds. On cue, the princess uttered a squeak as she slipped while rocks and dirt fell in her wake.

"Easy there!"

He could hear Stahl coming to her aid. Lissa didn't need that kind of help – she needed lessons. He just wasn't sure he was the person to be giving them.

Peering over the ridge, he surveyed the valley below. It _looked_ empty and serene, but that seemed unlikely. Gangrel knew Blue would be coming. He'd have guards or sentries set up so he had warning. Which wouldn't be a problem if it was just him coming through for a quick in-and-out kind of job, but that's not what this was about. And there wasn't just him to consider.

"What do you see?" Panne asked as she moved up beside him.

Gauis glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. The taguel made him a fraction uncomfortable, and the fact she hadn't brought him any sweets while giving an armload of sandwiches to Stahl still bugged him a little. Speaking of which... he reached up a sleeve and pulled out a peppermint.

"Nothin' so far," he replied, popping the candy into his mouth. "But they're down there."

"Of course they are," she replied in that low melodious voice of hers. "I can smell them already."

"Oh yeah?"

She turned and gave him a flat stare. "If your nose was stronger, you too would not be able to miss the stench of unwashed bodies sweating in armor."

Gauis wrinkled up his nose. "Right. Um..." He turned and looked at Stahl and Lissa who waited just below. They'd have to move into the valley today, but he wanted to do it right. Panne's nose would be useful in pinpointing Gangrel's men. No point in working harder than he had to. Still, it was tempting to get Lissa to keep watch... he shook his head, not only had he promised Blue he'd keep the princess safe – why _had_ he promised that anyway? – but she was here to learn, not wait in the wings.

He hopped down to them, Panne following.

"So?" Lissa asked. "How does it look?"

"Looks clear," he drawled.

"Really?" She seemed pleasantly surprised.

"Looks," he repeated. "It ain't though. Whiskers here smelled 'em a mile away." He jerked his thumb at the taguel beside him, who crossed her arms and glared at him.

"Can we use her sense of smell to skirt around them?" Stahl asked, pulling out one of his sandwiches and beginning to unwrap it.

"Bingo," Gauis said. "I wanna keep a safe distance from the scouts at all times. If we can get through the valley without attracting any attention, all the better. I'd rather not waste energy when I don't have to. Y'know?"

They nodded, although Panne snorted softly. He slanted a glance in her direction.

"That means, _Whiskers_, that you get point. Stahl I want you in the back, keeping watch for anyone tryin' to sneak up on us. Princess," he added, pointing at Lissa with a peppermint stick, "you're with me in the middle."

"I could watch the back," she suggested, gripping her staff.

Gauis shook his head. "Not yet. We'll work our way up. Right now I want you in the middle. I'll teach ya a couple things on the way through, but we'll have to be super quiet alright? This is going to be like tryin' to get through a sweet shop without tasting anything."

"Alright," she said, nodding. She almost seemed relieved, but it was hard to tell.

"Sounds good to me," Stahl said around a mouthful.

"Let's not waste more time then," Panne announced, hands on her hips. "I will lead us through. It should be simple enough if you man-spawn keep your mouths shut."

"Easy now," Gauis grumbled. "You can lead us through but you ain't _leading._"

She raised an eyebrow at him then moved down the ridge.

"Why are you so stuck on being leader?" Stahl asked. "Just curious, but you never seemed to want to lead much before. In fact, I'm certain you stayed away from it as much as possible."

Gauis shrugged, searching a pocket for some toffee. "I dunno. I ain't. It's just the job that was given me, and I'm gonna do it."

That seemed to satisfy Stahl, who continued down after Panne. Lissa kept up with him, her eyes on her feet so she didn't stumble. Her pink lips were pursed in concentration.

"Easy there princess," he teased. "You might hurt yourself if you concentrate any harder."

"I just don't want to trip and fall," she told him without taking her eyes off her feet.

"Well if you keep your eyes down the whole time, you're gonna miss where you're going and then an enemy could sneak up on you pretty easy."

She did look up at him then, her blue eyes wide. "But I can't concentrate on my feet and my surroundings at the same time!"

Gauis raised a finger to his lips, reminding her to keep her voice down. "You don't just have eyes," he said. "Use your ears to listen and you can use your feet too."

"My feet?"

"Sure," he said. "You can feel the ground beneath your feet, can't you?"

Lissa cocked her head to one side and wiggled her toes in her shoes. "Kind of."

He glanced at the thick boots she wore. "Crivens. I reckon I shoulda got you to change shoes before we came."

"Why? What's wrong with my shoes?"

"The soles are too thick," he explained. Then he lifted his own foot for her inspection. "See mine? Thinner soles and made of supple leather. I can feel everything I step over."

"Don't your feet get sore though?" she asked, grimacing.

Gauis shook his head. "Nope, I'm used to it. And it's better for gripping and for not stepping on things I shouldn't. Also makes me quieter."

Lissa frowned. "Jeez, I'm sorry I didn't even think about it."

Waving her apology aside, he said: "Don't worry about it for now. Just... try not to keep staring at your feet the whole time okay?"

She nodded. Well, that was one lesson down.

"Are you two coming?" Panne called from below. Both her and Stahl had reached the bottom and were waiting on them.


	8. Chapter 8

**Double update again! Got more game time in this weekend and I have a couple ideas for other fics after this one lol. ****Enjoy~**

**/Zen**

* * *

Waiting was killing me. I knew it had been my idea to send out the scouts and that it was our best chance, but it was torture to sit still while they were gone. I was pacing. And grumpy. I'd already snapped at Gregor, who turned away from me wounded, and Miriel, who'd only really raised an eyebrow.

Figuring it was the best thing for me – and everyone else in the camp – I headed beyond the tents into the nearby hills. A walk would do me good. It would also prevent me from running into Chrom. I had the sneaking suspicion he wanted to talk to me, but whatever it was, it would have to wait.

I heard the faint whisper of footsteps behind me and sighed. "What do you want Tharja?"

"Um I'm not – oof!"

I spun around, cloak flying out around me, and saw Sumia on the ground. She was already propping herself back up as I hurried over to her.

"Are you okay?" I asked, hooking an arm under her shoulder and helping her back to her feet. It was on the tip of my tongue to ask her what the heck she was doing out here following me, but I bit the words back.

"Yeah," she replied, sighing deeply. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to come out here and... oh nevermind, it was a stupid idea."

She looked ready to turn back towards the camp. I kind of wanted her to leave me be, but instead I took her elbow and guided her to a nearby fallen tree. Normally the last thing I wanted to do was counsel a girl – especially on a day like today when my patience was as thin as Tharja's clothes – but today I almost welcomed the distraction. Anything to stop worrying about the scouts.

Anything to avoid going back to the camp and running into Chrom.

"Okay," I said, taking a deep breath and bracing myself, "what is it? Something's bugging you, so don't say it's nothing."

She looked at me a moment, with her wide dark eyes, and then I saw the tears start to well up. Crap.

"It's just – I'm so useless!" Her voice caught.

"Sumia – don't cry! It's okay! Hey, you're not useless," I added quickly.

"I – I'm not?" she asked, sniffing.

"No," I shook my head, scrambling for examples of times she managed not to fall on her face. "You know so much about the Pegasus – Pegasi? Uh, about them and horses and other animals. No one is as good as you are with them." That was true at least.

"Well," she said slowly, "I do like them."

"And they like you," I added, nodding encouraging.

"I just wish I was more like everyone else sometimes," she said, her perfect mouth pursing in a frown. "You're so smart, and you don't trip over anything."

"Not while anyone's watching," I said, laughing. She smiled weakly.

"Sully is a strong fighter, and so is Panne. Cordelia is amazing at EVERYTHING. But I'm not good at much of anything."

"Has anyone been bugging you about it? Is it was Gauis said the other day?" I asked, mentally cursing myself for not butting in then.

"No," she shook her head, her long wavy hair brushing against her face and shoulders. "Everyone is really nice about it, and he was just being honest. He was right – I'd just get in the way."

"Chrom wouldn't keep you around if you weren't useful," I told her firmly.

"I guess," she replied, frowning. "He is trying so hard to make sure we win, even after Emm's death. I feel so bad for him."

I nodded, a little bit of guilt swishing around in my stomach. She was right. Chrom WAS trying really hard to make things work and not fail. He might not be the brightest guy and he was definitely more than a little hot-headed at times, but he really was trying. And here I was, avoiding him. What if he just needed someone to talk to?

"You know," Sumia said, picking up a twig and snapping it in half, then once more. "I don't think we could have got this far without you."

"Huh?" That took me by surprise. I looked at the girl sitting next to me, watching as she stared thoughtfully at the broken sticks in her hands.

"It's true," she said. "Without you, we might not have won even half the battles so far – or at least not with as many of us alive. I would hate to have lost anyone. The Shepherds have become my closest friends, almost like family. And I know that last time around if you hadn't warned me about the archers... well, it could have been bad."

She was right about that much. The girl had a bad sense of her surroundings most of the time. Which explained her tripping habit.

"I'm just trying to help," I told her. "I don't know much, but I'm going to use what I do know to see us through this war."

She nodded, dropping her kindling onto the ground and brushing her hands off. "I think Chrom sees that. I'm so glad he has you," she said, turning and smiling at me. It was one of those too bright smiles that made me feel sick to the stomach. "He needs good friends to see him through this, and you're definitely helping to keep him on the right track. I was talking to Sully earlier and she said if it hadn't been for you making sure he stuck to the plans we had, he might have rushed off and tried to take Gangrel on himself!"

"Yeah, he can be a little rash..." I muttered.

"A little?" Sumia giggled but then sobered. "Can you imagine what would have happened? Ylisse would have been in pieces. He might have died and that would have left Lissa in charge of the kingdom, all alone. It would have been terrible for her."

"But it didn't happen," I reassured her. "He's doing the smart thing." And I kept him on the smarter path, like the tactician is supposed to. _I was just doing my job,_ I told myself.

"Yes," she agreed, "because of you. I'm really glad," she said again. Then she stood and stretched her arms above her head. "I think I'm going to head back to the camp, and maybe talk to Cordelia. I really think she could help me."

"Help you?" I echoed, not following.

"I want to be more useful to everyone," she said with grim determination, her slim hands tightening to fists at her sides. "Cordelia is always doing helpful things – I want to be like that. Do you... do you think I can?"

"I think you can do anything you set your mind to," I told her, although the smile I gave her was weak.

"Okay!" She started back down the path, getting two steps before she nearly tripped over a tree root. The same one which had got her on her way here. Her arms flailed and I half stood to go after her, but she caught herself.

"I'm okay!" she said.

Sighing, I sat back down on the tree trunk. I didn't know other people had been watching us so closely, and if Sumia had noticed how Chrom relied on me then the others would have too. This was not good.

I wanted to help Ylisse, and my friends too. Chrom was one of those friends, but he was a PRINCE. I wasn't sure how I felt about him. I wasn't sure how I was supposed to feel.

We worked well together. We fought well together. Yet everyone – Chrom included – seemed to see something that I just didn't quite see.

Looking up at the blue sky overhead, devoid of any clouds, I wondered if there was anyone I loved from before. What had I been like before I woke up in that field? Closing my eyes, I flashed back to that moment. Maybe there hadn't been anyone else, because my initial reaction to seeing Chrom bent over me was that of attraction. He did cut a striking figure – the honed muscle from hours of sword practice, the roguish charm from being a young prince, and the worry that often crinkled his brow because of the responsibility that was now his.

I groaned out loud and buried my face in my hands. Attraction was one thing, but it wasn't love. And anyway, Chrom would have to marry someone noble, someone like Maribelle. Someone who would know how to be a queen.

_Maribelle might know how to be a queen,_ a little voice in the back of my mind argued with me, _but she knows nothing about strategy or people_. It was true. While she might know the ins and outs of royalty, she knew very little about the common people – and her attitude barely veiled her contempt for them.

If I was trying to convince myself he belonged with someone else, I was doing a very bad job. I had to admit he was handsome, and he was sweet enough. _And technically_, that same little voice added, _Lon'qu has never told you he cares. He can't even stand women!_

It was true. With his debilitating fear, Lon'qu would never want to be with me. We might fight well together and I could make him laugh, but who was I kidding? If I was using him as an excuse to stay away from Chrom, I was fooling myself. He'd never want me. He'd never want any woman.

Why did that make my heart ache so badly?


	9. Chapter 9

Gregor ran the wet stone along the length of his sword, humming as he honed the blade. The clouds had finally dispersed and the sun beat down on his back, warming him through his tunic.

"What are you so happy about?" Tharja demanded darkly.

He glanced at her, sliding the stone along the sword's edge once more, and smiled. "Is beautiful day," he told her. "What is not to be happy about?"

She really was an odd one. She stood out in the warm sun, all in black as she always was. Her dark hair hung past her shoulders, resting against the soft fabric of her cloak. Her sheer clothing beneath – which, while appealing, was completely impractical in his mind – was also black. She did not appear to be enjoying the weather, which for some reason made him smile wider.

"It's scorching out," she sniffed.

He nodded, amused, and continued with his sharpening.

She watched him a moment then said: "You always have something to say and now you are quiet… what are you planning old man?"

He grimaced as he looked up. "Why Gregor is to be planning any things? Is just sharpening sword."

"Sure you are."

Raising the blade for inspection, he figured it was sharp enough to split a hair, so he returned it to his sheath at his hip. The wet stone he slipped into a pouch, then he looked up at Tharja. It was fun making her wait. He could see the annoyance in the way she pursed her lips and how her eyebrows furrowed.

"Gregor thought Tharja not liking all the talking before," he said, "so he say to himself – Gregor will be quiet! He let evil girl speak first."

"Is this all because of that stupid list of questions?" she demanded.

"Because Gregor wants to be friends," he said. From the corner of his eye he saw Arkelle approaching. For a moment the tactician seemed lost in thought, then she spotted Tharja. Her eyes widened and she darted aside, into Miriel's tent. He chuckled under his breath.

"If you really want to be friends, prove your loyalty," Tharja said, tipping her head back. She hadn't noticed Arkelle. "Give me nail clippings and a lock of your hair so I can cast a spell that actually sticks."

"What," he laughed, slapping one big hand against his thigh, "you not satisfied with playing with weather?"

"If my hexes affected the weather," she replied acidly, "it would not be so uncomfortably hot."

Gregor considered telling her she could take off her cloak, or change into something that wasn't black, but resisted. No point in making her mad now.

"If Gregor agrees to your unholy terms," he said instead, "you must answer question, yes? Most times Gregor only wants to know if evil girl have dinner plans. But not today."

She just looked at him for a moment, like she was trying to figure out what motive he might have or maybe trying to predict what he might ask. "You get one question."

"Oh, that is too bad," he sighed. "Gregor have long list. But he will narrow it down… Does evil girl know magic spell that can, how you say, bring back dead?"

"Seriously? _That's_ your question? It's almost as bad as 'can you make me immortal?' Uggh!" She threw up her hands and tossed her hair back.

"So then, you cannot do this?" Gregor asked, feeling his stomach sink.

"No, Gregor," she replied, speaking slowly like she was tired and explaining something for the millionth time. "I can't. No one can. Now if you want to _talk_ to the dead, that's something I could maybe arrange."

"Is for truly?" He stood and took a step closer to her. Tharja took a step back, stiffening. "Oh, yes, that would be more than enough! Please," he added, taking her hand, "you must help Gregor talk to dead person."

She shook her slim hand free of his larger one and looked up at him through her dark lashes. "It's not that easy you know," she said, looking aside and avoiding his eyes. "It takes a lot of work, and a LOT of preparation."

"Please, you must do this!" Gregor felt panic tightening in his chest. He shoved it down. He was so close. Closer than he'd ever been before. What could he do to convince this girl that she should help him? Tharja was not one who could be moved to help someone, not easily. Not without something to gain.

That was it.

Taking a deep breath he met her eyes and said: "Gregor gives soul in exchange."

Interest blossomed on her face. "Really?"

"Cross Gregor's heart and hope to die!"

"Well…" she hesitated and for that pause, Gregor hardly dared to draw a breath. "If you're really that desperate, maybe I can do something…" 

He bowed his head, taking her hand again. "Then Gregor is always being in your debt."

She withdrew from him again, her gaze lingering, before she turned and sashayed away. Gregor stood looking after her, hopeful for the first time in years.

"Always," he said, releasing a deep breath and closing his eyes. When he opened them, he saw Arkelle standing in front of him, a frown on her face.

"Are you alright Gregor?"

"Hm? Ah, Gregor is fine!"

"Really."

He could tell right away she didn't believe him. Even sleep deprived as she was, with the dark circles under her eyes, she was sharp. He must be losing his touch, if he could not even tell such a simple lie.

Sighing, he scratched the back of his neck and tried to let the tension flood away. "Is fine, Gregor will be fine." He eyed her, raising an eyebrow. "And Arkelle? Is okay?"

She smiled wanly, a sign he recognized. "As good as can be, I guess."

"Ah," he grinned, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and steering her down the path, "Gregor has just the thing."

She looked up at him apprehensively, but allowed herself to be moved along. "Oh really…"

"Is special medicine Gregor drinks on hard journey! Tastes like bottom of old well, but is very good for you – we both be needing this, yes?"

She did stop then, ducking under his arm. "I don't need medicine, Gregor. I feel fine."

"You have no hurting of throat? No hacking up of lung? You look like person dragged in by wild animal."

Arkelle raised both eyebrows, stuffing her hands into her cloak pockets. "Thanks. And not really…"

"In such case," he said, placing his hand on her shoulder and guiding her forward once more, "Gregor have other drink, also taste like old well." He gave a sly wink and laughed at the dirty look she gave back.

"Gregor…"

"Come! All hard work with no playing make dull tactician, yes?"

She hesitated, but he could see she was considering it now. Sighing, she said: "Oh all right. But just one," she added with a hard look.

He laughed and headed for the mess tent. He saw Sully along the way and called her to join them. The red head stopped, setting her hands firmly on her hips. It made the muscles in her bared arms stand out.

"What for?" she asked.

"Ah, why everyone is ruining surprise?" Gregor asked. "Come with and Sully will see."

"Don't leave me alone with him," Arkelle added dryly.

"Everyone is so mean to Gregor! Is just one drink."

"In that case," Sully grinned, "I'm a bit parched myself!"


	10. Chapter 10

**Hola guys! I hope you didn't forget about our scouts, because they are in trouble ;)**

** Aurora: Oh don't worry, there is much more coming to tug at your heart strings!** **(maybe not in this chapter, but it's coming!)**

**/Zen**

* * *

Gauis turned, a warning on his mouth like a melting peppermint, but before he could say a thing the guard turned.

"Crivens!" There was no point in staying quiet now. They were made. Where had that guard come from? Why hadn't Panne smelled it?

Cursing under his breath, Gauis knew he shouldn't have relied entirely on the taguel's sense of smell. He knew better than to rely on others to get the job done. He should have taken point himself, with Panne behind him.

The warning cry went out from the guard and the others came running. Boots thundered across the dry grass. There were maybe eight of them, but better armed. Gauis and the others had been outfitted for scouting and running, not for fighting. He gripped his sword hilt, hoping he wouldn't need much else.

Ahead and to his left, Panne roared, changing forms. On his other side, Stahl unsheathed his own sword.

Gauis took a fist-full of Lissa's dress and pulled her out of the way of the nearest guard who was charging them. Shoving her behind him, he met the attack with his own blade before whirling and slashing the man open from shoulder to hip. He fell like the dead weight he was.

"Whiskers, on your right!" In her beast-form, Panne dodged and reached out with a massive paw, taking down the two men who'd been trying to skirt around her. As if they could have found a weak spot.

He grit his teeth, watching Stahl struggle with yet another guard. The man was much better on his horse, but he was holding his ground at least.

"Look out!" Lissa used her staff to knock him out of the way.

"Crivens – Princess if you would just –" Gauis grunted, rolling to the side and coming up on his feet. It was hard to fight and protect someone at the same time. He made a mental note to make sure she got some lessons with an actual weapon when they got back. Princess or not, she'd need to be able to defend herself at some point.

Dodging the next swing of the guard's axe – and his foul breath – Gauis swung his sword up from the side. The contact jolted up his arm, but he didn't falter. The man fell face first into the dirt. Just to be sure he didn't come back up, Gauis stabbed through the guard's back, right around where the left lung would be.

"Was that really necessary?" Lissa demanded. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes wide – by fear or excitement he couldn't quite tell.

Sweeping a glance around the valley, Gauis saw Stahl propping himself up with his sword and Panne back to her humanoid form, brushing off her fur. The guards were all down.

"I don't like it when my enemy finds their feet again Princess," he responded, cleaning his sword with the guard's uniform. "People don't usually like being stabbed, kinda like I don't like it when someone sneaks into my candy stash."

She gave a little huff, but didn't actually look too mad about it. Then she seemed to notice Stahl hunched over as well and hurried over to him. He'd be in good hands. The princess might currently be a lousy fighter, but she was a top notch healer.

"That was unexpected," Panne said, a slight growl still edging her voice.

Gauis walked over to her. "You missed a spot." He reached up and pulled some grass from her hair. She merely raised an eyebrow.

"Are you not going to reprimand me?" she demanded. "I failed. We never should have run into them at all."

Gauis sighed and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, bad Whiskers. You led us straight into a trap – it had nothing to do with that flock of crows taking off and cawing at us like the cravens they are. Or our good friend's noisy stomach," he jerked his thumb at Stahl, who was walking over to them unassisted now that Lissa had healed him.

Stahl winced as he heard the last comment. "Uh, sorry, usually I don't have to worry about my stomach being loud – I'm not usually sneaking around much."

"It's fine, cripes!" Gauis threw up his hands. "Let's just leave it lay – ain't any use crying over ruined toffee. What I really want to know," he added almost to himself, "was what the heck was with those birds."

"Oh my! You're hurt!" Lissa took his arm, staring at where one of the guards must have sliced through his leather glove.

"Huh, so I am," Gauis noted. It was bleeding a fair bit – his mum had always said he bled like a stuck pig – but it wasn't particularly bothering him. "Don't worry about it Princess, I'll heal –"

"Sh!" She grabbed hold of his forearm and frowned in concentration, channeling through her staff. She was petite, but she had enough determination for someone twice her size. Her blond hair blew across her face as the wind picked up, but she hardly noticed. The hand she held over his arm warmed to an almost uncomfortable temperature then and tingled as the flesh beneath it healed.

When she released him, he flexed his hand and shook his arm a little, trying to get rid of the tingling sensation. As handy as healing magic was, he wasn't entirely comfortable relying on it.

"Thanks. Now let's get out of this valley – it's takin' far longer than I'd like." They were all four in agreement and hurried through. There was no longer any point in being quiet – they'd roused any guards in the vicinity. _Not,_ he thought, _the kind of entrance I'd planned._

Stahl and Panne moved to take point, but he stopped them. "Whiskers, take the princess with you."

"I get to be up front?" Lissa's eyes lit up with surprise.

"Yeah well don't go tripping over yourself or anything," he said, waving her excitement aside. He shared a glance with Panne, hoping the taguel understood the princess would be her responsibility. He almost expected her to object – but she inclined her head ever so slightly. Good.

The two moved on ahead, leaving him and Stahl several paces behind.

"You think that's a good idea?" Stahl asked, looking after the two. He had a concerned look on his face.

Gauis shrugged. He went to dig a peppermint out of his pocket and glanced at the cut in his leather glove. It was a deep one alright. He'd need to stitch that up. And these were his favourite pair of gloves too.

"No one gets good at anything when you're breathing down their neck," he said, following after the other two. "Gotta make mistakes to learn!"

"Like this?" Stahl asked, jerking his thumb at the guards lying on the ground behind them.

Gauis grimaced. "Some mistakes are worse than others Munchies. You just gotta remember to keep moving forward."

"Munchies?"

"I'm trying it out," the red head grinned. They followed quietly for a bit, Gauis keeping his eyes and ears trained on their surroundings. He was also listening intently – straining, really – for the moment anything went wrong up ahead. Both Panne and Lissa had rounded a bit of a hill edged with thick-leaved trees, hiding them from his sight. He resisted the urge to hurry after them.

He'd told Stahl he meant to give Lissa room to learn, and Panne to teach. He meant to do just that.

Crivens but it was hard. He snorted softly, glancing to the right and into the trees as a bird flew up.

"Crows again?" Stahl asked softly beside him.

"Not crows," Gauis said, dread filling his stomach, "ravens."

Like the intense flavour you got from a cinnamon heart, alarm bells went off in Gauis' head. He was already running when he heard Lissa's scream.


	11. Chapter 11

**Sunday Update! So what do you guys think so far? We're like half-way through what I've got planned. I guess it's not nearly as romantic as I had initially thought, but that's because I just love so many different parts of the game and all the characters I tend to get carried away haha.**

**Thanks for reading.**

**/Zen**

* * *

I sat down on the hard wooden bench with Gregor on one side and Sully on the other. Despite how warm it was outside, inside the mess tent was cool. The beige canvas kept out most of the heat and provided a gentle kind of shade that almost let you forget it was midday. Not exactly the best time for a drink, now that I thought about it. _Please don't let me regret this,_ I thought.

"Ah here! Basilio," Gregor called to the West-Khan who was rummaging through a barrel of fruit on the opposite side of the tent, "bring some cups, yes?" He'd already produced a thermos from one of his pouches, and used a big hand to uncap it.

"Whoa! That smells strong!" Sully exclaimed, leaning across me and sniffing it. She scrubbed a hand across her nose. "What did you do," she asked, "put a horseshoe in it? Damn."

"Only in coffee," Gregor replied with a wink.

"What've you got there Gregor?" Basilio asked, one of his big hands held the cups, the other had a mittful of fruit. He set one cup in front of each of us before sitting down himself, unloading the fruit onto the scarred table in front of him. He was a big man, towering over us even as he sat. I actually began to feel a bit like a schrimp. Tall with lean muscles, I was like a willow stuck between a couple great oak trees.

"Is best brew," the sell-sword announced, pouring the faintly amber liquid into each of the cups.

Basilio brought his cup to his mouth and took a swallow. I watched his face, trying to tell from the expression in his lone eye just how strong it was. The big man brought the cup back down to the tabletop with a thunk.

"Not bad," he said in his booming voice. "We have stuff like this in the west of Ferox, you remember eh Gregor?"

"Ah, Gregor remember! Come, all raise cup."

Gingerly, I picked up the cup. Sully did the same on the other side of me. She'd found bread and cheese somewhere and was eating that. My stomach rumbled, reminding me I was hungry too.

"Toast," Gregor announced with a grin, "to all hard work – and to not getting killed by enemy sword!"

It would be like the mercenary to toast to that. Laughing softly to myself, I brought the cup to my mouth and swallowed. The liquid burned my throat as it went down, making me cough and splutter. I put the cup down, sloshing a bit of the ale onto the wood surface of the table. The others laughed and Gregor patted me roughly on the back.

"Like old well, yes?" he asked, his eyes twinkling.

"Yeah," I rasped. My eyes watered a little. Well, at least I knew I hadn't been a heavy drinker in my previous life. I didn't mind the odd cup of ale now, but this was something else. Gregor must have a stomach of iron.

"A mighty tactician with a soft gullet," Basilio said, still laughing. He tossed me an apple he'd dug out of the barrel earlier. "Eat that, it'll soothe the way."

I thanked him and took a bite. It was soft but sweet, and it did soothe the burn a bit.

"We'll have to bring you into the villages more often!" Sully grinned, nudging me roughly with a shoulder. She gestured with the cup in her hand. "Vaike, Stahl, and me, we have a grand time. We'll bring you along next time."

Somehow, I didn't think that would be the best idea.

"What's with all the celebrating?"

I froze halfway through my second bite, stomach sinking. Of course Chrom would choose now to visit the mess tent. Now, when I had let Gregor drag me into some premature celebrations. Into having a drink of 'old well' at midday. What had I been thinking?

"Is small break," Gregor explained, turning on the bench with his cup in one hand, his other resting on his thigh. "Good for, how you say, morale? You want?"

I turned more slowly, hoping my cheeks weren't as red as they felt.

"No, thank you," Chrom said, declining. "But I will take one of those apples."

Basilio grunted, tossing another one towards the prince who caught it easily. I'd nearly forgotten about the one in my hand, but took a big bite out of it now. With my mouth full, I wouldn't say anything I'd regret.

Chrom moved into the tent, still standing, and the others talked and laughed with him. It didn't take long for me to relax – it was easy with the Shepherds. Sully and Gregor – even Basilio – had a very easy-going way about them. They laughed loudly and frequently, in a way that made you feel like you should be laughing too.

"Was not quite that way," Gregor said, arguing with Basilio over the time they'd fought one another to be West-Khan, several years back.

"All men say that crap," Sully said. She threw her head back when she laughed. "It's always bigger and better in their memories!"

We all joined in at that, especially when we saw a blush rise in Gregor's cheeks. I leaned my elbows on the table, propping myself up with one hand and grinning at him.

"Ah yes, pick on old man Gregor," he said.

"Careful who you call old man," Basilio grinned, "remember we're not so far apart in age!"

"Neither of you are all that old," Chrom interjected. He stood with one foot on a barrel, smiling easily. This was good for him too. For the first time in the week since Emm jumped, I couldn't see the sadness in his blue eyes.

"To be so young," Basilio said, winking in Gregor's direction. The two men laughed.

Chrom chuckled, sharing a glance with Sully who grinned back at him.

"You owe me a match," she told him, lifting her chin.

"I do?" he asked, eyebrows raised.

She nodded, leaning forward with her elbows on the table. "We haven't sparred in ages – gotta make sure you aren't slipping. I'd hate to see you going soft like a real royal."

"A real royal?" He actually seemed affronted. Then determination sparked in his sapphire eyes. "I can't have my soldiers thinking me soft. Tomorrow then?"

"Come at me, little man," she said with a vicious laugh. "Just don't go crying when I wipe the floor with you!"

Basilio's laugh filled the mess tent, with Gregor's echoing. I smiled, amused, as they settled the details of their match. I had no doubt both of them were in good shape and that at least half the Shepherds would turn out to watch.

Sully and Chrom got along well. From what little I knew, they'd grown up together more or less. Even though she was rough with him – she even admitted she had the mouth of a sailor – there was a sort of kinship between them. Something that came easy and was comfortable. It was good for him, to have that. A part of me was even a little jealous.

Did I have a childhood friend somewhere? Why had the people I'd known before never come looking for me?

_Maybe no one cared about you. Maybe, before, you weren't a good person._

My chest tightened and a sharp pain stabbed through my mind. I winced and when I glanced up; Chrom was looking at me. That easy, gentle smile was gone and concern had drawn lines along his brow. He tilted his head to the side of the tent. I could have pretended not to notice or understand, but I got up from the table and followed him. The others continued with their jokes and reminiscing behind us. Their laughter was a like a cushion, like it created some kind of bubble we could all disappear into for a little while and be safe from the rest of the world. From the war. From Gangrel and our own fears.

Back out from the cover of the tent, I felt the heat immediately. After days of cloud and gloom, I'd grown used to feeling chilled more often than not. As we came to a pause in the sunlight, I shrugged out of my cloak and tossed it over my shoulder. The sun warmed my skin and I closed my eyes for a second, just taking it in.

When I opened them again, Chrom was watching me. He had a funny look on his face which was at least partly amused.

"I'm sorry," I blurted out before he could say anything else.

"Sorry?" he repeated, his eyebrows raising in surprise.

"I know it isn't appropriate to be drinking," I said. "Gregor suggested it would be good to unwind a little, and I-"

"Arkelle," Chrom laughed, "it's fine. It would do you good to relax a little. You're wearing yourself thin."

"I am not!"

"Even Vaike has noticed."

I blinked. It wasn't that Vaike didn't care about other people, it was just that he rarely took notice of those around him long enough to realize when they were worn out or even angry. You had to really be in his face about something for him to get it.

"Oh." I said.

"Yes, oh." Chrom gave me a stern look. "You need to look after yourself better. As your commanding officer, I need my tactician in a good state of mind. Too tired and anyone could make a mistake. A mistake which could cost all of us."

I grimaced, knowing full well what he meant. As tactician, a lot depended on me. If I made the wrong choice or suggested the wrong move, it could devastate us.

I looked up at him as his hands settled on my arms.

"As your friend," he said, "I need to know you're okay." His grip tightened and a warm wind brushed his hair across his eyes. "I can't have you falling apart on me."


	12. Chapter 12

_I can't have you falling apart on me._

Gods, my throat ached so bad and suddenly I was too warm. Way too warm. The sun beat down, searing my bare arms. Chrom's hands were still gripping at me, like he could keep me from falling apart simply by holding on. The laughter from the mess tent seemed far away, even though it was only a few steps.

I pulled back from him and his arms fell to his sides. With a wavering smile I said: "Don't worry about that, I'm fine."

The look he gave me said I hadn't convinced him.

"I'm just having a little trouble sleeping," I told him with a shrug. "There's a lot on my mind."

"And mine as well," he said with a nod. It was hard to look at him now. I stared at his elaborate shoulder guard. It reflected the midday sunlight, shining and dinted. The curlecues were mesmerizing if you tried to follow them.

The silence between us grew, feeling even more dangerous out in the open like this.

"I was hoping you might teach Ricken a few things," I said quickly, remembering the conversation I'd had with Lon'qu the other day. I dared to glance at his face and looked away again. "He really looks up to you, and I think he would really benefit from lessons-"

"Lon'qu is already teaching him," Chrom said.

"What?" I was so shocked I stopped and looked right at him. Met his eyes. A blush crept up my neck, which was exactly what I needed since it was both embarrassing and only adding to how warm I already felt.

"You didn't know?" he asked. Then he smiled. "I guess you can't keep tabs on everyone when you're barely getting enough sleep yourself. I passed by the ring late this afternoon and saw Lon'qu putting young Ricken through the motions. Very basic, but the boy looked almost as intent as you do when you're struggling to learn something."

I couldn't believe it. Lon'qu had done as I'd suggested – he'd begun to train Ricken. For some reason, the thought made me giddy.

"I'll be damned," I muttered.

"What was that?" Chrom asked, leaning closer to me.

I shook my head. "Nothing. Sorry. I'm glad that someone will teach him. He'll need every skill he can muster in the coming days."

"It will be bad," he agreed, lowering his voice and glancing at the tent. "They may not realize it but-"

"Don't fool yourself," I cut in, surprised by the tartness in my own voice. "They know _exactly_ how bad our battle with Gangrel will be. They just deal with it differently, but that's why they are all training so hard. It's why Cordelia has been bettering all our weapons and why Sumia is working so hard too."

He nodded slowly. "I did see her trailing after Cordelia earlier..."

"She's determined to be useful," I said with a wry smile. "I'm not sure how well that's going to work out."

Chrom laughed. It was a melodic sound that made me smile and erased my previous discomfort. "Well she pretty much undid everything Cordelia managed to accomplish. It's a good thing the woman has such a strong sense of determination – "

"They both do," I snorted. Then I jerked a step back as a drop of water fell on my nose.

"What?" he asked, then laughed as a raindrop got him as well. He reached over, his thumb wiping the drop from where it had rolled across my cheek.

I froze, hardly daring to breathe as his hand lingered on my face. What was I supposed to do? Should I move? Should I say something?

The bright warmth of the darkened as thread-thin clouds blown by a cold wind brought more rain. It wasn't a lot and the sun still shone. I barely noticed. Chrom was staring at me in a way that made my heart stutter in my chest.

His hand, roughened with calluses from the hundreds hours he'd had it clamped around the falcion's hilt, cupped my cheek.

I caught my breath.

"Arkelle," Chrom said my name seriously, closing the gap between us so there was perhaps a hand's width between our bodies. "You do seem distracted. Is everything all right? You can tell me."

"I know," I said breathlessly. I couldn't look away from him. I should – I knew I should.

Or should I? _Duty_, I thought. I was afraid of what my duty might command of me, what my loyalty to Chrom and Ylisse might cause me to do. What it might cause me to feel. I knew the smart choice, the tactician's choice.

_Yes,_ a little voice said in the back of my mind. _Don't you want what's best for Ylisse? What's best for Chrom?_

Of course I wanted what was best for everyone. Chrom was my friend, and he had taken me in when I had no one in the world. I just didn't know if this was what _I _wanted. Was that being selfish?

"Are you sure?" Chrom asked, taking my hesitation and silence for evidence of what he believed. He was frowning, his blue eyes searching mine. "I meant what I said, I can't have you falling apart on me. The Shepherds need you. I need you."

I felt a light headed. Had he really just said that? I was nervous. I didn't know what I was doing. What WAS I doing?

"I'm fine," I said lamely. Apparently my brain had stopped functioning. "You don't – you don't need to worry."

"Maybe not," he said, "but I am worried." He raised his other hand then, tucking some of my wayward hair back behind my ear. His fingers brushed my cheek, moving so that both his hands cupped my face, and I caught my breath. I had completely forgotten about the rain by this time, even though a distant part of me registered the fact my shirt was soaking through.

He began to lean in, the same hand that had tucked my hair back now resting on my neck. It felt cold against my damp skin, and heavy. My breathing came quicker. He was going to kiss me. Any moment now, his lips would touch mine.

I'd never kissed anyone, not that I remembered anyway. I had no idea how to do it – what if I was a terrible kisser? My heart was pummeling my chest now as my anxiety rose. Gods, I had no idea what I was doing. Should I lean towards him? Did I even WANT to? I was too scared to even begin to answer that question.

A crash of thunder jerked us apart.

"This is no ordinary storm," Chrom said just as a bolt of lightning split the sky above us.

"What's going on?" I asked. I was looking up, pushing my wet hair back from my face. I could still see the sun shining brightly and now that I was actually paying attention, I noticed those stringy clouds actually were an off-green in colour. I'd never seen clouds like this.

Another bolt, the thunder right on its heels and so loud my teeth rattled. I stumbled and Chrom grabbed my hand.

"Come on!" He shouted, dragging me after him. That last one had hit within the camp. Gregor, Sully, and Basilio were already dashing out of the mess tent, cups and laughter forgotten.

What kind of storm was this? I could smell smoke through the rain. Whatever the lightning had struck, it had sparked a fire.


	13. Chapter 13

**Happy (early) Thanksgiving to my Canadian readers!**

** prankinglissa: thanks for the review! Don't worry, I have some good stuff in mind for Arkelle ;)**

**/Z**

* * *

Gauis ran full out, rounding the corner without any of his usual care. Stahl pounded the dirt a couple steps behind him, but neither knew what they were getting into. A harsh wind swept towards them, trying to keep them back. That's what it felt like. Gauis grit his teeth and ran into it.

_She was my responsibility,_ was all he could think. He'd told Chrom he'd look after Lissa, and make sure she got back in one piece.

And after everything that had happened to Em...

Gauis cursed. This was why he didn't get attached to people. This was why he was a _thief_, not some bloody hero.

"Gauis-"

"I see it Munchies!" He snapped, skipping to avoid tripping as he dodged a tree root raised half a foot from the ground. Their first glimpse was of Panne leaning over a sheer edge, her tail up in the air as she reached down. That meant Lissa had to be close enough to reach. He repeated that thought until he was close enough to see the princess clinging to the staff she'd jabbed into the cliffsie.

"The ground gave way," the taguel told him without turning. "I cannot reach."

That much was clear. Lissa was at least an arm-span further than Panne could reach – further than he'd be able to reach too.

Muttering another curse, Gauis skidded the last couple feet. On his knees at the edge of the cliff next to Panne, he knew his guess at the distance had been right. There was no way he'd reach her without something to cover that extra length.

"You okay princess?" he called. She dangled from her staff where it was stuck into the dirt by a single hand, but she didn't look like she was about to let go any time soon. "This ain't exactly the time for sightseeing."

"We weren't even that close to the edge," Panne told him under her breath. Her voice actually seemed to shake. "It gave way with our weight, as little as it is."

"Maybe you weigh more than you think you do," he told her, surprised by himself – how was he still managing to crack a joke at a time like this? Lissa was dangling by a hand! The drop had to be... gods, he wasn't even sure how far down it was to the ground below. No! Don't think about it. Just get her out of there.

What would Chrom do?

Gritting his teeth, Gauis sucked in a breath. He was resourceful. He could get her out of this. He had to.

"Gauis?" she was trying not to be scared, but he could see the doubt in her eyes. She wasn't sure if he could really get her out of this. If he could really save her.

He wasn't either. But he wasn't going to tell anyone that.

"Stahl, can you hunt up a branch we can use?"

"Huh? Yeah, yeah."

"Whiskers..." he glanced at the taguel. "Hold my legs."

She looked like she might object, but moved so that she had a good grip on his ankles. He actually felt her claws dig in. At any other time he might have had an issue with it – at any other time he would have told her to ease up – but this was important. He didn't have time to gripe.

"Lissa-"

"You used my name," she said, looking up at him with her huge blue eyes. Her voice was a whisper.

"It's a special occasion," he said, lowering himself over the side towards her. "I'm gonna need you to-"

"Grab your hand," she said, watching him come closer. "I know."

He was close now, close enough he could make out the sweat beading on her forehead. Crivens but it was hot out too. Lowering yourself over the edge of a cliff to do some life-saving was not made easier by the heat. Or the bloody wind. He grit his teeth tighter, wondering if his jaw was going to just plain snap, as the wind came by and buffeted them both.

Lissa cringed, an automatic reaction to the wind. The staff slipped a fraction where it was dug into the dirt.

"Gauis!"

"Easy! Easy princess, try not to move anymore," he told her quickly even as he realized she was beyond his reach now. "Every time you move it can come loose."

"You can't reach me now," she whispered, her big eyes going from the staff and back up to him.

"I cannot hold your weight much longer in this manner," Panne called from above them.

"Don't you even think of letting go," he said, ignoring the taguel and focusing on the princess.

"Of course I'm not going to let go!" she exclaimed. The fear he'd glimpsed was replaced by her determination. "I'm going to get myself out of this!"

"Lissa-"

Panne had begun to hall him back up, her hands gripping tight on his legs.

"I'm not done yet! I can still get her!"

The taguel did not stop. Frustrated, he rolled sideways as the edge appeared next to him. Blood had rushed to his head, but he still looked down at her. The princess swung a little, reaching up and grabbing the staff with both hands now. Her one arm had to be tired. There was no way she could be hanging on that long and not be tired. And when she got too tired...

"Do you still need the branch?" Stahl asked, hurrying back up to them. He had a long branch that looked like it had come from a leatherleaf tree and was about as thick around as his wrist. The wind had whipped his hair into a disaster.

"It won't be enough," Gauis said, shaking his head and looking back down at Lissa. Alarm made him dig his hands into the dirt in front of him. "No! Princess you can't –"

"Do not yell at her," Panne hissed. Her eyes too were trained on the girl below them. "Only she can get herself out of this now. There is nothing more we can do."

He grit his teeth. He couldn't accept that. Leave her to climb up a crumbling cliff edge? How was that keeping her safe? His whole being itched to take action – what kind he did not know, because no matter how much he didn't like it, she was right. There was nothing the three of them could do.

Even as he watched, the staff slipped out of the dirt a little further.


	14. Chapter 14

**Double Update! Things are so upside down this week what with having Monday off haha**

** Aurora: Glad you're still reading! Don't worry, nothing is final yet ;) **

**/Zen**

* * *

Getting my feet beneath me, I hurried so we ran side by side instead of him dragging me along. That bothered me for some reason I couldn't quite put my finger on just yet. I'd never been much of a follower, I guess.

Acrid smoke filled my nose and burned my eyes, even with the rain still falling. I still wasn't sure what kind of bloody storm this was, but it clearly wasn't the time for questions.

"Arkelle!"

I glanced off to my right and saw Ricken hurrying towards us, one hand holding his floppy hat on his head. His eyes were wide, but he kept on towards us.

"Did you see where it struck?" I asked, not slowing my pace. Chrom glanced over but the grim look on his face didn't change.

Ricken huffed, running next to us now. "You're going the right way! I was back at the sparring ring but–"

We came upon the tent then. Our supplies tent. My stomach sank, seeing the canvas aflame.

"It shouldn't be burning – it's wet!" Ricken exclaimed.

"It's a wyn-storm," Chrom grit out, his blue eyes taking in the scene. Several of the Shepherds were already trying to form a bucket brigade, but the river was just far enough from camp that it would take too long. And the flames weren't slowing down or behaving like a regular fire. Rather than be dampened by the rain, they seemed to thrive.

"Ricken," I said, my mind racing ahead, "do you have your wind tome with you? I want you to give us a little cover. Try and move the clouds back - just keep it at bay for now if you can. I get the feeling it won't be easy to chase off."

"It won't," Chrom agreed. He moved quickly into the fray, unclasping his cloak as he ran forward to pat out some of the flames. That wouldn't do enough, not before everything we needed burned up. Everything we needed to ensure we would be strong enough to face Gangrel.

Gregor ran by me and I called out to him.

"Where's Tharja?" I asked.

"Why you ask Gregor?"

"Oooh looking for me?" Tharja asked, appearing at my elbow. At any other time, I would have snapped at her for creeping up on me again, but this time I was merely grateful.

"A wyn-storm – is it a hex?" I asked her quickly.

Her dark eyes darted upwards then at Ricken, who was already weaving a wind storm of his own to chase some of the clouds away. She licked her lips then looked at me again.

"You want my help?" she asked.

"Do what you can as quickly as you can," I said, refusing to waste time bandying words with her. "I've seen you weave magic thick enough another might faint. If this is a hex from someone else, I want them to know we are stronger. I want them to regret ever imagining they could come at us this way," I added, surprised at my own vehemence. I shook my head. "Get rid of it so I can deal with the fire."

I left her to it without another word. She would do as asked. Though Tharja liked to put up a front, I knew she couldn't stand by idly with a threat such as this hanging over us. She was as tied to the Shepherds as I was, and only becoming more entangled every day. I glanced at Gregor as I neared the tent, pulling my tome from my satchel. Something told me Tharja would work very hard to set that hex rolling right back at the magician who'd cast it.

Setting my feet firmly in the dirt, I flipped to the page I needed. We didn't have water tomes. It was a difficult element to work with, often working on the wielder more than the target. But there were ways around that.

Using a common wind spell I twisted it to create a funnel to bring the water to the tent. I sent a second spell in a swirl around the tent itself, bringing up the loose top soil to smother as much of the fire as possible. The twin spells whipped up a small frenzy, nearly toppling Cordelia who was working frantically to put out some of the fire which had begun to reach the contents of the tent.

It felt messy, doing it this way, but I didn't have a better idea. I didn't have time to come up with a better one. Gritting my teeth I added as much of my strength and knowledge to the spells as I dared in order to sustain them.

"Steady."

I grunted at Miriel who had stepped up next to me. She stood with her feet apart, braced against the wind. Her hair stuck to her pixie face, her hat sagging on her head, but she braced me as well with a hand. That one gesture helped me greatly. I felt her palm on the small of my back through my shirt. Vaguely, I remembered dropping my cloak back when we'd begun to run.

As suddenly as the rain had begun, it was all over. The rain gone, the sky clear and shining once more. Ricken staggered back, falling down roughly. I saw Nowi moving towards him, offering her slim hand to help him back to his feet.

"You can stop now," Lon'qu said. His quiet voice startled me. Abruptly I lowered my arm and ended the spell. Fatigue hit me like a ton of Risen. Only Miriel's hand kept me from falling as Ricken had.

The tent was soggy, and muddy from all the dirt I'd piled on it. For that matter, many of the Shepherds were in the same shape. Gregor's laugh cut through the sudden silence as he wiped mud from his face with an grimy hand.

"Has been long time since Gregor THIS dirty!"

Others joined his laughter. It was the sound of relief, a good sound. It made the exhaustion I felt now worth it.

"I'm sure you love a good roll in the mud," Sully retorted, shaking the mess from her short hair. Good natured shouts rose as she splattered the others.

"A wyn-storm," Miriel muttered next to me, glancing up at the now clear sky. Her eyes were already puzzling and her hand fell from my back as she forgot about me. "Now that would be something to study, but of course it was so quick..."

I wavered, light-headed.

"Easy," Lon'qu grunted. His hand replacing Miriel's.

Without thinking, I leaned into him.

"Did you eat today?" he asked stiffly, trying to support me without getting any closer than necessary. I was too tired to really care about his phobia.

"I... don't remember," I said. "An apple. Basilio gave me an apple."

"An apple," he said, his mouth twisting in disbelief. "Come, you should eat."

"I don't need to eat-"

"Sustenance is a necessity to energy levels," Miriel remarked idly. She was still staring at the sky, although with a notebook in her hand now, so she missed my glare.

"Come," Lon'qu said, turning me around. There was no arguing with the hard length of his arm at my back.

"Did you really start to train Ricken?" I asked. My words were a little slurred. So maybe I was tired. Just a bit.

He grunted, looking forward stubbornly. His hair was damp against his face, highlighting his cheekbones and brows. It was hard not to stare.

"Thank you," I said.

"Everyone should learn where they are able," he replied, sitting me down in the mess tent. I was in almost the exact same spot I'd been before, when Gregor had brought me in for a drink. The cups still sat on the table, although Basilio's lay on its side. Perhaps he'd knocked it aside as they'd darted out of the tent.

Then I remembered. Chrom and I had been talking just outside the tent, and we'd nearly kissed. Heat flooded my cheeks and neck. Oh gods, what was wrong with me? I'd almost let the Prince of Ylisse kiss me! I should have said something - stopped him! Because I didn't want him to kiss me... did I?

"Are you alright?" Lon'qu asked. Mistaking the heat rushing into my cheeks for illness. He set some bread and cheese down in front of me, taking a little for himself.

I looked down at the plate and dug in, filling my mouth to keep from having to answer.

"There will be much swimming this afternoon," he remarked. The comment was so offhand that I snorted and began to laugh, coughing when the bread and cheese got caught in my throat. Lon'qu looked at me strangely.

"I'm sorry," I said, still coughing as I tried to clear my throat. "But swimming?"

"You had everyone covered in mud," he said by way of explanation. Was it my imagination or was there a glint of humour in his eyes? It was hard to tell at times.

"Well they'd best jump in with all their clothes still on," I said, wiping my face. It came away with some mud, and I smiled. "Maybe I should have a swim as well..."

"I do not think that wise."

"I'm not going to drown just because I'm tired," I said, rolling my eyes at him. "So unless you plan on coming in with me, you may as well just let me go."

For the second he considered it, his face grew red as a ripe tomato. I laughed, trying not to imagine it myself.

"Can you even swim?" I asked, cocking my head to one side and trying not to laugh as I finished off the food in front of me.

"I can," he replied gruffly, looking away from me.

"But you won't, because I'm female."

"You are teasing me."

"I most certainly am," I said, grinning when he turned to stare at me. Then I did laugh. "Oh don't worry, I'll just wash off. I'm not so bad anyway," I added with a shrug.

He nodded and looked away again. Was it that he didn't like the topic of conversation or just didn't want to be around me? Or, I thought as I realized how I was dressed, perhaps there was a little more of my bare flesh showing than he was used to. The damp shirt had thin straps and left my shoulders and neck bare. I chuckled to myself, amused that it would make him so uncomfortable, then brushed the crumbs from my hands.

Let him be uncomfortable, I thought. It was a little shocking to realize I actually didn't mind him seeing me this way – and that I missed the feel of his arm against my back.


	15. Chapter 15

Gauis watched, hardly daring to breathe, as Lissa swung herself towards the cliff side. He knew she had no other choice, that there was no way for him to get down there, but it didn't make watching any easier. His fingers were dug into the dirt as close to the edge as he could get without falling over himself. It was a good thing she was so light, but even so the staff wavered where it had been plunged into the earth.

It was the only thing keeping her from falling the hundreds of feet to a nasty death.

Lissa dug her feet into the side, and Gauis thanked the gods the cliff was mostly clay. It did not fall away as she hit it, but held her. Then her staff came loose.

"Lissa!"

He wasn't sure if it was him or Stahl who had called the princess' name. Panne, on his other side, was quiet although her face was grim and set. The markings on her face stuck out against her paled skin.

The blond princess coughed, one hand grasping a root that had been exposed by the earlier collapse. The one that had taken her down with it. Her other hand still held onto her staff. It was going to slow her down, and make it very difficult for her to climb. She was a healer, not a fighter, so her strength wouldn't be enough to make climbing one-handed easy. But if she could get close enough he might be able to grab hold of the staff and haul her up.

"Just a little-"

"I know!" she called up.

"Leave her be," Panne said next to him.

Gauis grumbled under his breath but held his tongue. He could only watch as the princess tested out her footing, juggling the staff in the crook of her arm. She managed a couple feet – it ought to be enough. He sure hope so.

"Do you think you can reach me now?" she asked, leaning her head back as far as she dared to look up at them. Her face was paler than normal, but her eyes as determined as her brother's could get.

"Reach out with the staff," Gauis said, laying down on his stomach and inching forward. Without having to be told, both Stahl and Panne move to pin him down. With his torso hanging over the edge and blood rushing to his head, Gauis reached down as Lissa stretched the staff upward.

The top of it was a rough, lop-sided U. With two hands he reached for it, grabbing onto the bottom of the U where it joined the pole of the staff.

"Got it! Now-"

As he spoke, the ledge Lissa had been holding onto crumbled away. With a squeak, she lost her footing altogether, putting all her weight on the staff.

"Hold on!" he told her. "Pull me up Whiskers! Pull me up! I've got her!"

He felt the pressure on his legs change as both Panne and Stahl began to haul him back from the edge. He kept his eyes locked on Lissa's, willing her not to let go.

"I've got you Princess," he told her. She didn't say a word, just held on for all she was worth.

After what seemed like an eternity, Gauis had his feet on solid ground and with Stahl's help they lifted Lissa over as well. Panne took her hand and tugged the girl away from the edge.

"Let us not tempt the fates," the taguel said.

"Aw c'mon Whiskers," Gauis teased, "you can admit you were worried."

"As though you were not?" she retorted.

"We were all worried," Stahl said, handing the princess her staff back. Lissa took it with shaky hands. She looked nearly done in.

"We could stop for a bit," Gauis said. He didn't want to stop, not yet. He had planned to be camped outside of Gangrel's fortress before nightfall, but he didn't want her to fall asleep standing up either. "You could rest up and we could – "

"No," Lissa said, shaking her head. "I don't want to stay here and we can't stop, not just for me."

"There is no shame in needing rest," Panne remarked.

"It's no problem at all," Stahl added, "if it were me I'm sure I'd need some rest!"

"No, I'll be fine," Lissa asserted. She took a deep breath and drew herself up to her full height, setting her staff into the earth and gripping it tightly. "We have a mission, and we're already behind."

"As the princess says," Gauis replied with a shrug. He gave her once last searching look, then turned back to their path. The others were quiet, and he couldn't bring himself to interrupt the silence to break them into formation. But he didn't have to. Panne lengthened her strides after a moment, pulling herself up to the front of the group. Her nose was raised and twitching as she scented the air. Her whole body looked alert.

Stahl dropped back a moment after, slowing his strides. For someone used to a horse, he knew how to be quiet when he had to be. So long as his stomach didn't start growling.

"You sure you're okay Princess?" Gauis asked quietly.

"We don't have time for me not to be," she said stubbornly. It wasn't really an answer, but he could admire her determination.

"When we get up there, we'll set up for the night," he told her. "In the morning, you and I are going in for uniforms."

"Me?" she looked shocked.

He shrugged. "Yeah, you think they are just going to let us waltz in or something?" He dug around in a pocket, suddenly craving a toffee. When was the last time he'd had one? An hour ago? Too long. "We're gonna need a disguise, and that means uniforms, comprende?"

"Um, I think so..."

"It'll be easy as pie."

She giggled. "Everything is easy as pie for you."

Gauis looked over at the princess and thought: _not everything._ But what he said was: "Hey, I like pie. It makes a good comparison and it takes good too."

"I guess so. But don't you think you should take someone else? What if I make noise or something?"

"Don't I give the orders?" he asked, spreading his arms and raising his eyebrows. "Ain't it good enough for you to believe that if I say you can do it, you can do it?"

She frowned. "I... guess so."

He grunted, digging through another pocket. Arguing only made his craving for sweets stronger. At this rate he wouldn't have anything to get him through the hike back.

Up ahead of them, Panne whistled faintly through her teeth. Gauis' head snapped up and he hurried towards the taguel, Lissa hot on his heels.

They crouched as they came up to the trees where Panne knelt. "There it is," the taguel said with a jerk of her chin.

"Gangrel's fortress," Lissa breathed as a breeze brought her blonde hair across her face. She brushed it back without a thought.

"Crivens," Gauis muttered, narrowing his eyes at the construct before him. It was bigger than he'd thought. He sure hoped Arkelle would have a good plan by the time they got back.


	16. Chapter 16

**It's Sunday! *does a little dance* I went to our local Comicon yesterday - much fun! Steampunk with some FE inspiration for my costume (I made the avatar's belt, more or less. Gah, love it!).**

**Enjoy this chapter ;)**

**/Zen**

* * *

Gregor unbuckled his sword belt, laying it neatly on a rock alongside the river. His other belts followed; they held things that shouldn't be getting wet. From the corner of his eye he saw the others downstream as they cleaned the mud from their clothes. Sumia had already fallen in head first at least once, taking red-headed Cordelia with her. Chrom hauled them both out, an amusing sight.

A subtle step sounded behind him. It was barely even recognizable as a footstep, but the wind was not blowing and no animals bigger than a mouse were about. Gregor pretended not to notice although he strained to hear the next one.

After a moment's thought, he left his boots beside the rock as well. No point getting such good leather any wetter than necessary. He'd have to wipe them down later and work some good oil into them, so they didn't dry out and crack.

The step came again. A whisper of movement.

"Evil girl want to watch Gregor take swim?" he asked without turning. Turning would mean showing her the grin splitting his face. He didn't think she'd take that too well.

Tharja sniffed in annoyance from behind him. "I do not understand how dunking yourself in freezing cold river water is amusing," she said over the laughter of the others downstream.

"Is good to make best of bad, yes?" he replied, relieving himself of the last of his armor before glancing back at her. She stood with her arms crossed over her chest, dark eyes leveled at him.

"How is this making the best of anything?"

"Suit yourself," he laughed. Taking three strides he leapt into the water. It was shallow enough he could touch the bottom while standing, and at least three horse-lengths wide. The river splashed up around him, soaking through whichever bits had dried from the earlier storm. With a hand he slicked his auburn hair back and wiped water from his eyes.

"Is refreshing," he teased, squinting at where Tharja stood on the shore.

She glowered at him. "You lie."

Gregor lay on his back, paddling in a circle for a moment and just enjoying the water and the sun. When he stood again, she was looking at him strangely.

"You have read future for young Nowi already?" he asked.

Tharja turned to watch the others downriver. "I was going to," she replied dryly, "but someone decided it was a good idea to send a storm our way."

"Then is good thing you were here," he replied.

"What is that supposed to mean?" she snapped.

Gregor shrugged, rubbing some of the mud from his tunic. "Is good to have some such as you to fight such things. Was good for us, bad for them," he added with a grin and a raised eyebrow.

She sniffed, shifting her weight to her other leg. Gregor considered her for a moment, and the distance between them. An idea grew in his mind, one that was becoming more and more tempting.

Without another thought lest she might turn back to him before he managed it, he leapt from the water and closed the distance between them. Tharja gave a girlish shriek as he wrapped his arms around her waist and hauled her over his shoulder. Her fists hammered his back in the seconds before he dumped her into the river.

Another shriek, this one garbled. Gregor stood with his fists on his hips and laughed as she tried to right herself. Her black cloak billowed out around her in the water like some kind of ghostly mire. Her pale hands flailed and splashed.

"Ah," Gregor sighed, wiping a tear from his eye. He hadn't laughed that hard in awhile. "Come now, evil girl can come out now. Gregor will not stop you."

He waited, but Tharja still seemed to be floundering about. He frowned. "Is not deep," he said, although half to himself.

"Not – for you!" she spluttered as she managed to get a breath.

_Surely she can swim_... Gregor hurried into the river even as the water tried to slow him. It clung to his legs, pushed against him even as he tried to force his way to her. It hadn't seemed nearly so thirsty or so strong when he'd waded in it moments before, but it clung to him as thought it did not want him to reach her. Like it would keep them parted.

Almost like something wanted her to drown.

With the water at his shoulders and weighing him down, he caught Tharja up in his arms. Her hands grasped at him before managing to get purchase. Her nails bit into his skin, and her breath was warm on his neck.

"All is good," he murmured, patting her legs as she pressed closer to him. She was shivering, more from shock than from the water since it was warm. What a fool he had been! Not asking if she could swim before tossing her into the river. Fool. An old fool.

"N-n-never d-do that a-again," she stuttered.

"No," he agreed, turning and walking slowly out of the river, "Gregor never do again." She didn't weigh much, although the water soaking her clothes and cloak added some. More than anything the cloak kept getting tangled around him as he walked. He nearly tripped twice, prompting her already firm grasp to become a death grip. Water sluiced down both of them, her hair sticking to both of them as they exited the river.

"P-put me down," Tharja demanded.

He lowered her to the riverbed, trying to detangle himself from the cloak at the same time. It was wrapped around his forearm now, sticking like a leech to his bare skin. Where was the end of the bloody thing? With a grunt he tried to yank it free – at the same time she tugged on her end.

Gregor tumbled down. He saw Tharja's eyes widen in the instant she realized he would crush her. As his left foot left the ground he gave himself a bit of a shove and planted his hands in the dirt, one on either side of her head. The momentum and the direction of his hands had him somersaulting over her, landing with a thump just behind where she lay. He didn't move for a moment, trying to get the air back in his lungs.

Not the best landing he'd ever had.

"Are you alive?"

He tilted his head back and saw her face, upside down from this angle. She peered at him, her dark hair hanging into her eyes like slick black needles.

"Do not be concerned with Gregor," he said, rolling over and pushing himself up so that he was sitting cross-legged. Stretching, he cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders. "As young man Gregor could do many such flips! Now his body not so used to it," he added with a wince that was more embarrassment than pain.

Tharja sat up as well, trying to pull her cloak around her as cover, but it continued clinging and now it was picking up dirt and sand from the riverbed. She sighed in annoyance and simply parted the clasp, balling up the garment and tossing it beside her. Crossing her arms she glared at him.

"What are you staring at?"

"Hm? Oh, is nothing," he said quickly, looking away and fighting the flush crawling up his neck. Scratching at his chin and doing his best to keep his eyes averted, he searched for a safer topic. "Tharja will read future for Nowi today?"

"Maybe."

"And after that, spell for Gregor?" he asked, trying not to sound so eager.

"In exchange for your soul," she replied darkly. Perhaps she'd thought reminding him of that would make him less ready, or perhaps just bug her less about it, but he nodded firmly.

"Gregor would give now," he said, "if would make spell work faster."

"My spells are fast enough," Tharja said, lifting her chin a fraction. Her eyes flashed and he grinned.

_Soon,_ he thought. He would be able to put his guilt aside. The only negative of it was it might end the amount of time he had with Tharja. What would they have to do with one another afterwards?

"Come," Gregor said, pushing himself to his feet and offering his hand to the dark girl. She glared at him a moment then took his hand and let him pull her up. "Is beautiful day. Evil girl would not say no to a walk with Gregor?"

She did look like she'd protest, but Gregor pulled her along before she could. He might as well take advantage of the time they did have.


	17. Chapter 17

**An early morning update because I have to skidaddle out of down tonight... I hope you enjoy this chapter (and the next one) as much as I do!**

**/Zen**

* * *

The camp was a quiet place tonight after the excitement of the day. I'd wheedled my shift out of Gregor and now stood in the shadows of a forked, scraggly tree, peering out into the dark. It was warm enough there was no point to a fire, so there wasn't even the sound of crackling, burning wood. After the boisterous laughter and sound of the Shepherds at work during the day, the night always seemed too quiet.

Panne had once told me I didn't listen well – that it was just as noisy at night as during the day. Although she _had_ made a backhanded comment about man-spawn being louder than necessary. And how we didn't know how to listen properly. I tried to understand, and I guess there were enough crickets and owls around, but I didn't count that as 'noisy'.

The moon was an odd-bluish shade tonight. It reminded me of the night Marth had found us so suddenly. The night Risen had come from the sky. Shuddering, I patted my sword where it rested comfortingly against my hip and moved from the cover of the forked tree. Standing in one place too long could make a person fall asleep, and I wasn't about to do that. No way.

In the shadow of the next tree some thirty paces south and east of the camp (it was really more like a tall bush), I stopped and peered out into the night. I found myself passing the time by reciting some of the spells Ricken and I had worked on the other day. Then naming the places we'd been to so far. Then the birthdays of the Shepherds, one by one. I couldn't remember ever having learned Panne's. I'd have to ask her when they got back.

_If they get back,_ a cynical voice whispered in the back of my head. I shook myself, frowning deeply. There was nothing to suggest the four of them wouldn't make it back in one piece. Even if they did get into a scrape, Lissa was a great healer.

"A quiet night."

I nearly jumped right out of my skin. Heart pounding, I faced Lon'qu who stood with his hands raised in front of him. I'd unsheathed my sword reflexively as I'd turned.

"Sorry," I said, hastily returning the weapon to its place. How had he snuck up on me so easily? I was supposed to be on watch!

"You're very jumpy," he replied. The moon was bright enough for me to see his outline, but most of his face fell into shadows.

"I'm on watch," I said. As if he didn't know. I turned away from him, facing the darkness away from camp again. If I had missed him coming, what else might I have missed?

His boot steps approached until he stood even with me, about three feet separating us. From the corner of my eye I could tell he faced the dark as well, his sharp eyes likely scanning the very spots I'd peered at earlier.

"Are you tired?" he asked, keeping his voice to a low timber. "I could relieve you."

"I'm fine," I said with a sharp jerk of my head. I didn't want him to think I couldn't do this. I _was_ fine. Mostly. The memory of Chrom nearly kissing me came back and I flushed.

Abruptly, I turned and marched back towards my first spot. I didn't want to think about it. I didn't want to think about Chrom. I'd avoided him for the rest of the day, and planned to do the same tomorrow.

I didn't want to talk about what had almost happened. I wanted to focus on the war we were fighting and not getting the friends I'd made killed.

I wanted to know that if I didn't want to be that person to Chrom... if I didn't want to be with him... I wanted to know it would be okay. I wanted to know, whatever decision I made, the people I'd come to care about would be alright with it. That it would be okay for me not to make the choice people thought I ought to. That the fate of the kingdom didn't rest on my shoulders. That Chrom's happiness didn't rest there too.

Far from fine, I felt lonely. Being on watch didn't help that. I'd thought having something to do other than stew over my maps would be good for me, but I hadn't considered all the time I'd have alone with my thoughts.

I stopped by the first tree, sitting down on a long flat rock laying near it. Tall grass sprouted up around it, brushing against my boots as I shifted to get comfortable. Folding my legs up under my cloak, I waited for Lon'qu to catch up. He paused, looking down at me, then sat down as well. He sat stiffly, but made no motion to move away or leave.

"What is it?" he asked at last.

"What?"

"Something's bothering you," he said. "You have not made a single joke or so much as jabbed at me. It is not normal for you."

"Not in a joking mood I guess," I told him, attempting a smile. It felt forced, and from the look he gave me, he could tell.

"It is not just tonight," he said, looking out into the night. "These last few days you have seemed... strained. If you do not wish to tell me… I understand."

I wasn't sure what to say. Telling him would be unspeakable.

"I apologize for intruding," he said, making to stand.

"No – wait." I took a breath, waiting as he settled back onto the rock. "You're right… something is bothering me. I just don't know how…" How could I say it? I blushed furiously, glad for the cover of night to hide my embarrassment. But I had to tell him. If I didn't, it would seem like I didn't trust him. I couldn't have that sitting between us. "Chrom tried to kiss me." I said it so quickly, in one breath, that the words ran together.

The brief silence was so thick I thought I'd be better off cutting it than trying to break it, but I felt better all the same for being honest.

"Tried," he said at last, his tone careful and quiet. "And it was… undesired?"

"I didn't know what to do," I burst out. "He was just there and we were talking and when I kind of figured it out my heart started going so fast I thought I was going to die. I was actually scared," I admitted, "I'd rather be out on the battlefield any day."

He nodded and I remembered that of all people, Lon'qu was one who might understand the fear I'd felt. His fear of women suddenly seemed a lot less irrational. Of course, he _was_ sitting here with me, closer than he'd sit with any of the other female Shepherds, but I'd worked long and hard at making him comfortable with me between jibes and practice.

"Do you feel this way around everyone?" he asked, clearly thinking along the same lines as I was. "Or just Chrom?"

I shook my head and sighed. "It's never happened before. But then again," I added, "I've never been that close to anyone before."

"Never?" he asked.

I looked up and saw him watching me. His face was still in shadows, but I could feel his gaze.

"I don't know," I replied honestly. I shrugged. "I can't remember anything from before, so maybe. But not since that day."

"In the field."

"Yes."

He was quiet for a long moment, and I felt I finally understood what Panne had meant about the noise. Waiting for Lon'qu to speak I found the silence around us filled with softly rustling leaves, crickets, a hooting owl, and somewhere in the distance a dire wolf howled.

"I understand," he began, "what it is like to be afraid. To have others jest on your account and make light of something which paralyzes you. You've helped me greatly," he added. "I'd like to help you in return."

Slowly, like one might reach out to a horse that easily startles, he reached across the space between us and laid his calloused hand lightly on top of mine. It was warm. A thrill ran through me and I found not one butterfly in my stomach, but a whole flock.

"Are you afraid now?" he asked.


	18. Chapter 18

**Happy Sunday! **

** Aurora - I'm just glad you're enjoying it :) keep the comments coming lol**

**/Zen**

* * *

I swallowed hard, trying not to be intimidated by the way my heart beat a staccato against my ribcage.

Was I afraid? Lon'qu's hand lay lightly on mine. I felt the calluses collected from hard work and hours of practice with the sword rough against my skin. I shivered.

"No," I said softly. Because I wasn't. Not of him.

He moved his hand away and I wanted it back immediately. I missed the warmth, but his eyes were already turned away. "Then perhaps," he said in a gravelly voice that suited the dark of night too well, "it is not men you are afraid of."

Laughter bubbled out of me, quiet but persistent. "You think I'm afraid of _Chrom_?" I asked incredulously.

"He is a prince. He gives orders – "

"And you stab people," I snorted, "yes, I remember."

He turned, half of his face in shadow, the rest lit faintly by the moon above us. "Fear comes to us all."

"But that's crazy! He's... he's Chrom. He's the prince," I said, like that made a difference. "He took me in. Allowed me to help him. Why would I be afraid of him?" But I knew the arguments were fading already. I knew he was right – I _was_ afraid. I was afraid of what being too close to Chrom meant. I was afraid of what I was already thinking of as my duty, and what might happen if I failed. What might happen if I made a different choice.

"I don't want this," I said quietly.

"No one wants fear," Lon'qu replied.

I looked up, realizing I'd spoken aloud. The was night deadly quiet of a sudden. I opened my mouth to explain what I'd meant when I heard something. It was faint – perhaps a scuffling animal in the underbrush or the shifting of the canvas of a tent in the breeze – but Lon'qu's head came up as well. We sat immobile, straining to hear another sound.

I saw from the corner of my eye the moment he went for his sword. He cleared it of the scabbard and stood in one fluid motion, right as the first Risen detached from the shadows. I brought up my own blade, too rushed to worry about my tomes. Gritting my teeth, I moved next to him – close enough to help but not so close we might catch one another in a down-stroke.

He dispatched the first one neatly, his two-handed sword slicing through armor and flesh. The next Risen materialized from the black night and threw his axe ahead of his approach. I grabbed Lon'qu's shirt and tugged him aside, the axe thunking into the bark of the tree behind us. His face hardened and he moved forward to meet the creature – I could not quite think of it as a man – raising his sword to cut off an arm before dealing the killing blow.

I saw two more coming from the left and moved forward. My feet automatically found the stances both Chrom and Lon'qu had taught me, and I shifted my weight as I waited. Moonlight glinted off their blades as I parried the first strike, ducking under the second. Rolling, I came to my feet and dragged my blade across the Risen's stomach before I'd even finished moving.

A glance to my left revealed Lon'qu had finished off the other one. I flashed him a grin. We did work well together. His eyes widened a fraction, enough for me to know I had to move – and quickly.

Ducking, I pivoted and danced to the right. A Risen, face twisted in a fury, brought its sword down where I'd been only a moment before. Lon'qu slashed towards it and I followed behind, finishing the thing.

"Not bad eh?" I teased, elbowing Lon'qu in the ribs before bending to retrieve my sword from where it had become lodged between the Risen's ribs.

I felt it immediately. As I bent, shifting my weight over my left ankle, I felt it give out. I must have twisted it in that last bit of avoidance, and now it refused to hold me. I felt Lon'qu's hand grab the sleeve of my coat but it helped little. I braced myself and hit the dirt.

Not my most graceful landing. Coughing, I rolled over onto my back.

"Ugh!" The Risen's face, open jawed and eyes glaring, greeted me. I pushed back from it and sat up, yanking my sword free in disgust. "Gods you're ugly," I muttered, waiting for my heart to calm.

"Do you wish to stay there?"

I looked up at Lon'qu who stood above me, his hands hanging at his side, at once relaxed and ready. I considered my options. I could try and tough it out – most likely to fall again. Or I could ask for help.

I exhaled roughly. "Just give me a hand up will you?"

He extended a hand which I grabbed onto, letting him half-haul me to my feet. Putting most of my weight on the right ankle, I struggled for balance.

"You've hurt yourself?" he asked.

"Oh yes," I replied dryly, "I did it on purpose, just so you could carry me."

"I do not carry people," he replied in a flat monotone.

"What happened to wanting to help me with my fear?" I said in a weak attempt at humour. I put my sword away, trying not to imagine him carrying me.

He grunted. Turning, I hopped forward, gaze trained on the rock I'd been sitting on only minutes before. If I could just make it there – I teetered, my balance wavering. I would _not_ fall.

Lon'qu's hand was at my elbow, gripping tightly and keeping me upright. "What are you trying to do?"

"Get back to that rock," I said, pointing.

"You should go back to your tent and rest for the night," he replied. "You're no good on watch when you cannot fight. There may be more Risen," he added, glancing behind us.

"Well I can't very well get back there on my own," I retorted, looking up into his shadowed face. I was starting to feel a bit like Ricken, wishing I was taller. "And you can't help me back because then no one would be watching this side of the camp."

I assumed that made a sort of sense to him, since he said nothing further.

"This may be asking a lot," I said, trying to be patient, "but can you at least let me lean on you so I can get to that rock without falling on my face?"

After a moment his hand released my elbow and I felt his shoulder brush mine. I wrapped my arm across his shoulders before I could give myself time to think about what I was doing – or time for him to change his mind – and his hand gripped me under the opposite arm. We made much better progress that way. We were nearly there - me hopping and him taking small steps beside me - when I heard what I thought sounded like a cough from him.

"Are you alright? Wait!" My eyes widened and I stopped, staring up at him. "Did you just _laugh_?"

"No."

"Yes you did! I distinctly heard it!"

His grip tightened on my side. "Never, you are incapable of provoking so much as a chuckle out of me."

I grinned in the darkness, knowing full well that I could – and would – do so. Perhaps I was being childish by teasing him, but after the stress and worrying of today this felt so good and so simple. The gloom was gone from me, at least for a little bit.

"That sounds like a challenge," I told him, still grinning.

"Damn..."

"Oh the game's afoot now!" I laughed. "Come on, help me down onto this rock. Then I can spend the rest of my watch working on getting another laugh from you."

He grumbled something under his breath that sounded a lot like _How do I get myself into these things?_ But he grunted at the end and lowered me down onto the rock.

"Shouldn't you be trying to figure out what to do with these Risen?" he asked.

I clucked my tongue and shook my head. "I take my challenges seriously." Looking at him, I thought I detected the hint of a smile on his face. "What?" I asked.

He rocked back on his heels and crossed his arms. "You seem much better now."

"You mean I'm teasing you again?" I laughed. "Honesty does that I guess."

He was quiet a moment. "I am glad you can be honest with me."

"I'm glad you didn't stab me," I snorted, shoving my hair back and pulling it out from where it had become caught in my collar.

"Stab you?"

"You stab people?"

"Is that supposed to be... funny?" he asked.

I rolled my eyes. "Clearly not."


	19. Chapter 19

**Got the day off so I can update early and hopefully write more!**

** Aurora: oh there will be resolution, to all the threads I've been weaving ;) I like working the support convos in when I can. They're what made me fall in love with the chars in the first place!**

**/Zen**

* * *

Gauis tugged on Lissa's sleeve so that she was backed up against the stone wall of Gangrel's fortress beside him. He turned slightly, peering around the corner. With a faint sigh of relief, he discovered his theory about the soldiers here being lazy had been accurate: only one guard in sight, and the man looked to be dozing.

Panne's suggestion about coming at first light had also been a good one, although he preferred to sleep in whenever possible and do his thieving in the middle of the night. Shadows were good for sneaking.

Glancing at the princess, he jerked his head to the doorway and she nodded. After a good night's rest she looked ready to take on the world. Her blue eyes were wide and taking in everything. At least, he hoped that's why they were so wide and not because she was afraid or something.

There had better be a fat sack of sweets waiting for him back at camp when they were done here.

The two of them padded silently past the guard, who was definitely dozing while standing up. The only thing that kept him from toppling over was the spear gripped in his hand and stuck into a groove in the stone floor. Gauis resisted the urge to kick it out from his grip. Maybe on the way back.

As they passed through the outer wall, they found themselves on the trampled grass within. The fortress was wide and spread out, but relatively quiet this time of morning. Clearly they weren't expecting anything.

"Where do you think we can find uniforms?" Lissa asked from just behind him. She had her hand on his sleeve, keeping close so as not to lose him.

He was just about to answer the supply tent, forgetting for a moment Gangrel had barracks and not tents like the Shepherds, when a pair of soldiers rounded a pile of crates set up ahead. The first fellow yawned, showing off a mouthful of teeth, and so didn't see them right away. His partner blinked, hand going for his sword hilt before the confusion had quite left his face.

_Is it always going to be like this?_ Gauis wondered as he leapt forward, running the fellow through with his sword. He spun towards the first man, the one who had yawned. Lissa stepped in, blocking the man's sword with her staff, and swung aside for him to deal with the fellow.

"Quick Princess, let's get these cravens out of their clothes," Gauis said as he bent over the first man he'd struck. The blood was already spreading, but most of it could be done away with some scrubbing in a river. It smelled badly, but they wouldn't be wearing them long anyways.

Lissa hesitated then bent over the second man, undoing his belt delicately and tugging the tunic over the guy's head. Once they had the clothes set aside, they pulled the two men into some brush on the far right.

Gauis looked at the bloodstain on the ground then shoved one of the crates over to cover it. He didn't know if anyone would notice, but he didn't have the time to come up with anything better. They'd been in one spot too long already.

"Come on," he said, grabbing an armload of clothes and hurrying back the way they'd come. With luck, they stumbled on a crate he'd missed on the way out with fresher uniforms. He grabbed two of those as well, one for Stahl and one for Panne.

He would have to figure out a way to disguise her ears.

"Ugh," Stahl said when they'd dumped the uniforms in the middle of their meager camp. "Those things stink!"

"Of course they do Muchies!" Gauis laughed, kicking back with a hunk of bread and pulling a small jar of honey from one of his pockets. "They've had a dead person in 'em."

Lissa shook her head and rolled up her sleeves. "I'm going down to the river and wash the smell out," she said. "Just because we have to look like those jerks doesn't mean we have to smell like them too!"

Panne met Gauis' eyes and nodded, following the princess as she took off towards the river with her armload of clothes. The taguel would keep an eye on her.

"As soon as they're back and the clothes are dry," Gauis said around a mouthful, "we're going in there. I don't want to be up here a minute longer than we have to be."

Stahl nodded as he repacked one of his saddle bags. "The longer we are here the easier it is for them to find us."

"Those guards I got won't stay hidden long," Gauis added. "Once they figure out what happened they'll be looking for us."

"Then we'd best be quick."

He nodded, eying the rising sun. It was full morning now, and no alarm had risen. That did worry him some. He hadn't hidden the bodies or the blood that well. Wouldn't those men be missed?

"When we get down there I want you and Panne to sweep along the edge of the fortress to the south. Look for what kind of units they got so we can tell Bubbles what we're up against. And anything we can use to our advantage," Gauis added. "I'll take Lissa back in through the middle."

"In and out," Stahl nodded, "like you said."

"Like I said," Gauis agreed with a grin. Brushing the crumbs off his lap, he dug through another of his pockets. "Lollipop?"

Stahl laughed and accepted.

"Well," Lissa said as she came back with Panne, "these are as clean as they get." She held up the garments in her hands. They were still damp and dripping, but that wasn't the only thing Gauis noticed.

"You only cleaned those?" he asked, surprised. He hadn't noticed she'd left the other blood-stained garment on the ground.

"You wanted her to clean yours as well?" Panne demanded, drawing herself up to her full height. It was then that Gauis noticed the fur around her wrists was soaked and dripping as well. Had she fallen in or something? Her eyes flashed. "Each of us is capable of washing our own uniform _man-_spawn. Your gender stereotypes are-"

She stopped when Lissa touched her arm with a laugh. "I don't think you have to worry about that with Gauis," the princess said. "He sews better than I do – and cooks better too!"

Gauis blanched at the memory of her soup-making attempt. Salty – and terrible.

Panne sent him a final glare then draped the clothes one after another over a branch of the nearest tree.

"Well Munchies," Gauis said as he stood up and dusted off his pants, "looks like we've got some washing to do unless you want to smell like a dead man!"

With some good-natured grumbling the two headed down to the stream. The water was cool, running shallow over smooth, rounded rocks.

"Don't suppose you have soap," Stahl laughed.

"No, I – " Gauis stopped, his hands still in the water, but his attention caught by the fortress at the bottom of the hill. Slowly he stood.

A column of cavalry filed out with a bannerman in the front, flag caught in the wind.

"We need to get back to camp and warn them," he said even as he turned on his heel and ran, tunic in hand. The column was coming right towards them. It didn't seem like a coincidence – nothing ever really was. No, the horsemen would be looking for them.

Gauis grinned. They wouldn't find a thing because he planned to be in the last place those soldiers would be looking – right in the middle of the fortress.

_Nothing quite like a good opportunity,_ he thought. _Unless it's a candy shop._


	20. Chapter 20

**Hola! I'm thinking of updating three times a week now guys... thanks to some prodding, I've got ten chapters built up! Which is also a good thing since its November and that means NaNoWriMo... which I'm already behind on. ;=;**

** sakuramcgarden: Couldn't agree with you more! I tend to fall for the quiet characters in books and games ;)**

**/Zen**

**PS - It's bloody snowing here.**

* * *

Tharja frowned, shaking her long dark hair from her face in frustration. She stacked her tomes on her desk and walked away from it abruptly, shoving the tent flap aside. The bright afternoon light made her blink owlishly.

"Hey Tharja!"

She turned and saw Nowi, the energetic manakete, hurrying towards her. She had a big grin on her face. Tharja felt her stomach do an uncomfortable flip and grimaced.

"Oh," she said, "you."

"Of course it's me silly!" Nowi laughed. She clasped her hands behind her back and bounced on her toes. "I heard you almost drowned yesterday, are you okay?"

"I am clearly not drowned," Tharja replied dryly. She pulled her cloak closer about her in memory of the afternoon. And of Gregor's arm around her. She would _not_ think about that. If she could just figure out how he was repelling her hexes she'd be able to make him pay for it. Like the dark sorcerer who'd sent the wyn-storm their way. She grinned. Sorcerer. Clearly an amateur. He wouldn't be casting anything for a long while.

"Oh yeah," Nowi said, tilting her head to one side, "I heard Gregor saved you. He's kind of good like that isn't he? I thought he was trying to capture me when I first met him, but turns out he was trying to save me! Can you believe that?"

Tharja raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"Anyways," the manakete continued, "I just wanted to know if you'd done it yet. You know, about my mom and dad. Any luck with my toenail clippings?"

Tharja opened her mouth, paused. She could lie. Easily. She'd done it a million times, but instead of lying she said: "Yes."

"Soooo?" Nowi leaned forward, her big eyes peering up at the sorceress. "What's the story? Don't hold out on me? Spill those beans!"

_She wants the truth? I can give her the truth_, Tharja thought. After all, she owed the manakete nothing, had no reason to spare her. The girl was a dragon – she could take it. But that wasn't what came out of her mouth.

"Your mother and father are both... doing well," she lied. Her mouth twisted around the words. "They worry about you all the time and can't wait to see you again."

Nowi bounced, a grin bursting like sunlight across her face. A thousand years old? Hardly. "Oh that's great! So where are they? I have to go see them."

She looked so eager and so happy. Tharja shifted uncomfortably, folding her arms across her stomach and unable to meet the girl's eyes. She wasn't used to making people happy – especially not by lying. What should she say now? Cursing herself, she added: "They are far, far away, Nowi. Too far for you to ever reach them."

The girl laughed. "Pfft! Yeah, right," she said. "If they're beyond the oceans, I can fly to them. If they're in the deepest forest, I can walk to them. I'm kind of immortal, you know? I've got plenty of time."

Tharja did her best not to sigh, although she felt the way her shoulders sagged a little. She made herself meet Nowi's big violet eyes now and, taking a big breath, said: "Ten thousand years would not be enough. Just be content knowing they're well."

Now the manakete's expression changed. Confusion drew her thin brows together and the smile faded. "What... what are you telling me?"

Gods why did being kind have to be so hard? Tharja looked away again, unable to stand the vulnerability she saw in Nowi's gaze.

"Tharja... just tell me the truth. I'm a grown woman. I can take it."

Was she? The girl might be immortal and well over a thousand years old, but she was so young in so many ways. So naive. Tharja turned and said, without emotion: "I could not locate your parents which means..."

"That they've gone to a land so far away neither of us have ever heard of it?"

"Um..." Tharja paused. If only it were that easy. If only she didn't know better. "Well, yes, I suppose it _could_ mean that..."

"Aw what a shame," Nowi sighed. Then she gave a smile that seemed a little too bright. "I suppose I won't be seeing them anytime soon then, huh? Well, thanks anyway!"

Tharja watched her hurry off, more of a run than a skip to her steps. "You're, uh, welcome..."

"Was that truth?"

She turned, surprised to find that anyone had been listening. But then again, who else would it be. Gregor stood there with his big arms crossed over his chest. He wore a sleeveless tunic and a soft expression as he searched her face. It had an odd effect in the contrast of the hard, weathered planes of his face. Not to mention the silver-handled broad sword at his hip.

"Was what the truth?" she asked, sweeping her cloak aside then resettling it over her shoulders. She kept her eyes off his face.

"What you told Nowi," he said. "That was truth?"

"Yes," Tharja snapped. Then she wrinkled her nose. "Mostly."

Gregor nodded as though he understood. "Her parents are not far away."

"No," she agreed, "they aren't. But somehow telling her that..."

"Gregor understands. Is sometimes better this way," he allowed in that gravelly voice of his. With a shrug of his big shoulders he let the rest of it fall away.

Tharja glared at him then. He'd been eavesdropping on her conversation, and this wasn't the first time. He'd heard the last conversation she'd had with Nowi too. How was it that the big oaf was always around? She was the only stalker in this camp.

"If you don't mind," she said, raising her chin, "I've other things to do than stand around." She started to return to her tent, but he stopped her with what he said next.

"Gregor is not wanting to be greedy," he told her, "but is wondering if maybe now evil girl will be ready to be speaking with dead ones?"

Tharja eyed him darkly, considering saying no just to see his reaction. What did he really want to talk to some dead person for? People were much too caught up in what _had _happened rather than what was happening – or what would happen.

"Yes," she sighed, rolling her eyes. "Once I clean up the remnants of the spell for Nowi, I will be ready to cast yours." She narrowed her eyes at him. "Your soul had better be worth it."

His face split into a grin, a mischievous curl to his lips. "Oh, Gregor promise! Will be very much worth it." He let out a booming laugh, like he'd just told a great joke.

Shaking her head, Tharja swept back into her tent and let the flap fall down behind her. It was darker within, although still warm. She tied the thong around the bag of Nowi's nail clippings tightly before setting the bag in the travelling trunk she had along one edge. Within it were more curious bits she might have use for in the future. She shut the lid and sat down on it.

When had she started trying to help people instead of hexing them?


	21. Chapter 21

**I will write a one shot with the characters of choice (within reason) for the person who can name which book series I stole a reference from in this chapter ;)**

**/Zen**

* * *

"They definitely know where we are," Chrom said, meeting everyone's eyes one at a time. Basilio, Flavia, Gregor, Lon'qu, and then me. Lingering on me.

Basilio nodded, sucking in one side of his cheek as he thought. "Not much else for it," he said in his deep booming voice. "A wyn-storm and Risen in the same day?"

"Most unlikely, as the big oaf has pointed out," Flavia agreed, lifting her chin. Her wild blond hair stuck out in unruly spikes from its band. "They know, and they will be coming towards us harder now."

I nodded, agreeing with both points. I'd had more than enough time to think it through last night, having been forced to sit on that rock while Lon'qu did the leg work of patrolling. When Freddy had come to relieve me, Lon'qu had helped me back to my tent and gone to get Maribel. Though she wasn't nearly as efficient as Lissa, it had done the job. My ankle was good as new.

"They were testing us," I said. "Testing our strength. They will know the strength of our magicians and our swords now."

"Why bother?" Chrom demanded. His brow was furrowed as he leaned forward, hands splayed over the table top and the maps there. "What point does it serve him to test our strength? Why send only five Risen and one little storm?"

"_Little_ storm," Gregor snorted under his breath. Basilio chuckled, but the rest ignored him.

"Anything bigger could have swept us away," I explained, "and Gangrel wants that fun for himself. I've also checked with Tharja, and she says it's unlikely their magic users have the strength for a bigger storm. Wyn-storms are a specialty, and harder to control the larger they are."

"Glad she's on _our_ side," Basilio muttered.

"For now," Flavia added, crossing her tanned arms.

I ignored their comments. They clearly remembered the non-challant way Tharja had joined the Shepherds. Despite how she kept creeping up on me and her dark comments, I trusted the sorceress. Something told me she was a strong ally – and I'd learned to put stock in such instincts.

"As for the Risen," I continued with a sigh, "any larger of a group would have caught our attention at once. Perhaps Gangrel really only wanted to keep us on our toes so that we would not know which way to turn or what to expect."

Chrom exhaled heavily, glancing down at the map beneath his hands. "Let's double the night watch," he said at last, "and I want at least one of us on guard during the day."

"We're all vigilant while it's light out," Basilio started.

Cutting him off, Chrom shook head and his dark blue hair fell into his eyes. "We can't take this lightly, even if it was only five of them. Gangrel is up to something and until our scouts get back, we can only guess at what it is."

I glanced across the others to Lon'qu, the only one here who'd kept quiet so far. With a faint smile, I remembered his reasoning – that Chrom gave the orders and he just stabbed people. What a clear conscience he must have for so deadly a swordsmaster.

He glanced up as though sensing my gaze and held it for a long moment. Then I realized I was still smiling faintly and looked away.

"You want Gregor to organize day watch," the auburn-haired sellsword said, straightening, "Gregor can do this. Others will not like, but it can be done." Bringing one fist to his chest, the man bowed his head then stepped out.

"I know they won't," Chrom said under his breath. He pushed up from the table and stood up straight. He looked more like the prince he was all the time.

"Sometimes you must do what needs to be done rather than what others might like," I told him. _I really ought to be taking my own advice,_ I thought sourly.

"I met a man once," Basilio added, voice loud in the small tent, "who fought a hopeless battle every day of his life. A small force was under his command, each man loyal to a fault and tough as wyvrn hide. Despite their odds, they held their defences for years – defences which still held when last I saw him."

"Is there a point to your story?" Flavia asked, raising an eyebrow at the man.

"If you would have a little patience," he grumbled. "The man told me something I still remember. He said: Death is as light as a feather, but duty as heavy as a mountain."

There was silence as he let that revelation sit. Chrom was certainly considering his duty as prince. As heir to Ylisse. I certainly owed him something. I had a duty – to him and to the rest of the Shepherds. Yet it was to Lon'qu my gaze strayed once more.

This time the swordsmaster looked deep in thought, like there was some responsibility he was considering too. _I guess everyone has their own duty_.

"A wise man," Chrom said at last, rousing from his silence and thought. "Thank you," he added.

Recognizing dismissal, both Basilio and Flavia raised their fists to their hearts and bowed their heads a fraction before heading out. The big man muttered something which earned him a punch to his arm as they ducked beneath the tent flap. Lon'qu roused, bowing and leaving as well.

"Do you think I am doing the right thing? Attacking Gangrel?" Chrom asked.

I was the only one left. I was the only one he could be asking.

Taking a deep breath, I said: "He murdered your sister, as surely as if he'd held the knife to her throat."

"I know," he said quietly, his hands tightening to fists. "I do not want to act out in anger, but I can't help it. _Something_ must be done. I know Emm would have wanted peace, but sometimes you must use violence to achieve it. Is that wrong?"

I chose my words carefully. "Emm believed in the goodness of others – of all others. There was nothing wrong with that, even if it wasn't always accurate-"

"There _is_ good in everyone."

"There is," I agreed, nodding, "but it isn't always the good which shows. Sometimes greed or hatred overpowers it. You tried to reason with Gangrel, but he's left you no choice."

The prince gave a bitter laugh. "No, he certainly did not."

"I will help you however I can," I told him, careful to keep my voice neutral, "but the choice is yours. We will follow you."

"Thank you," he said. Then he turned his attention back to the maps again. Taking my leave, I stepped out of the tent into the sunlight. Lon'qu stood off to the side and glanced up.

"He seems troubled."

Nodding and stuffing my hands into my pockets, I walked over to the swordsmaster. His dark hair was tousled, his eyes underscored by the sleepless night we'd both had. "He is. Those scouts need to come back, and fast. We need to move."

"I feel like a boulder growing moss," he agreed, running a hand through his hair.

"Well that's no good," I grinned. "I don't really think green is your colour."

"My colour?"

I shrugged, too tired to explain my lame joke.

"Are you coming to spar?" Lon'qu asked after a moment, hand straying to the sword at his side.

With a sigh I shook my head. As much as I wanted to, there were other things needing my attention. "Not yet. This meeting has set me thinking. There's some books I want to go through. Perhaps ask Chrom. It might get his mind off things."

I left him standing there and headed off to my own tent. I'd hardly slept this morning after my watch, but I felt too anxious. Perhaps sparring would have worn down that energy, but I needed to be working on the problem at hand. I had to be prepared. Somehow, I had to keep them alive.


	22. Chapter 22

**Almost forgot I'd said I was going to update today! lol**

**Also, congrats Aurora! totally ref'd the Wheel of Time in the last chapter and I'm so stoked you noticed. Yay for the borderlands and the Shienarans. Lemme know what you kind of a one-shot you want and who you want featured in it!**

**/Zen**

**PS - Hola to my new followers :3**

* * *

Gauis ducked lower into the brush he was hiding in, waiting for the bowman to pass by. He licked his lips, eyes on the steel-tipped arrow nocked and ready.

"If we have their uniforms why are we hiding?" Lissa asked, her voice barely a whisper behind him.

"Because we aren't _inside_ yet," he whispered back.

"Did anyone bring a sandwich?" Stahl hissed from a little further back.

"Are you serious?" That was Panne. "I told you to eat earlier!"

"I did eat," the man replied with a hint of a whine, "but I'm still hungry."

"Shh!" Lissa told them both.

Gauis sighed and dug through his satchel. "Pass this back to him will you? I don't want his stomach gettin' us into any more trouble."

Lissa took the toffee from him. "Are you sure?"

"Just do it before I change my mind."

The bowman passed beyond them and out of sight. Gauis let out his breath slowly and stood, stretching out the kinks in his back but keeping his eyes open. The others stood as well, Stahl quieted with the toffee. At least for now.

"You two go that way," he pointed north, "we'll be going straight back into the thick of it."

Panne nodded, dragging Stahl after her. Lissa stepped quickly, following Gauis' strides.

"Remember, shoulders back and a blank look on your face," he told her, straightening out his own shoulders.

She moved up beside him, although the look on her face was more of a grimace, and tugged the cap over her blond hair. It feathered out around her cheeks, but the cap covered most of it.

They walked through the same entrance they'd used this morning, passing a guard that was awake this time. His black eyes watched them approach.

"Returning from patrol?" the guard asked.

"Forgot something," Gauis grunted, not even pausing in his step. The best way to avoid conversation was just to keep walking like he had somewhere to be. Which he did. He wanted to be in and out as quickly as possible.

Taking Lissa's elbow, he guided her left, towards a squat stone building with a thatched roof.

"The stable?" she asked.

He only nodded, watching the soldiers around them. There weren't a lot, probably because of the patrols which had been sent out. Looking for them, most likely.

"You take a look in there," he said, nodding his head towards the door. "I'm going to sneak over to the barracks and see who's still there."

She nodded, striding forward. He hesitated a moment, but it was a good decision. They couldn't waste time with him babysitting her. She could do it. Hurrying over to the barracks, he didn't notice the barrels until he was upon them.

With a grunt, he walked right into one of them, upending it. Grabbing onto the smooth wood, he straightened it quickly, but not before a good quarter of the barrel of flour spilled onto the grass. It powered the green like a fresh coat of snow.

"Idiot!"

Gut sinking, he turned to see a man striding towards him.

"Don't you know we need every bit of the supplies we've got, you dog?" the soldier growled. "The food's barely passable as it is, but you want to have less of it? I'll dock your rations and see how you like that!"

"Sorry sir," Gauis said, bowing his head. He hoped his red hair was hidden well enough under his cap – it wasn't exactly a common colour among Gangrel's soldiers.

"Not nearly sorry enough," the man snapped, his fists sitting at his belt. Only a steel sword, by the handle. For all the man's pomp and attitude, he wasn't nearly as accomplished as Gauis himself. The red head bit back a grin. He'd spent a lot of time practicing to get as good as he was, but he didn't want to have to prove it here and now.

"Clean this up," the soldier told him, "ever last bit of it. And then report to the stable master. You'll be mucking out every last one of those stalls today – even if they've already been done! You'll learn to watch where you're going."

With a last scathing glance in Gauis' direction, the man strode off. Gauis remained with his shoulders hunched and head bowed until the man was out of sight. He glanced at the spilled flour then, and on towards the barracks. No one had stayed to make sure he'd done as told – so he beelined it for the barracks. He had no intention of hanging around and cleaning up flour – or mucking out stalls.

Snorting softly, he pushed open the rough wooden door. He blinked, eyes adjusting to the dim light inside. It smelled like a barracks alright, and it wasn't much prettier to look at. Gauis made a mental note to thank Chrom for the tents they had, because right now the tents were looking like a castle.

Rough bunks lined each wall of the narrow building. The linen looked – and smelled – like it hadn't seen soap in far too long. Old boots, bits of rotting food, and tunics lay strewn across the floor and the bunks. It was empty though, and Gauis crept through them quickly, counting as he went. At the end of the room a narrow stone hallway, lit by three torches burned nearly right down, led to the arms room.

"Oh yeah," he muttered, eyes taking in the racks. They weren't organized, but he figured that was because none of these oafs had Cordelia's OCD. Axes, swords, bows. Lances piled in the corner. Some of them blunt. He winced – blunt ones would hurt worse if they managed to put enough force behind the blow.

"What are you doing in here soldier?"

Gauis stifled a groan and turned. For someone who was used to sneaking around, he was getting caught way more times than he felt was appropriate. _This,_ he thought, _is why I sneak around at night. Then everything is quiet and everyone is sleeping!_

A thickly bearded bear of a man filled the doorway to the arms room, his meaty arms crossed.

"I was lookin' for a replacement sword," Gauis said, picking up one of those in front of him.

"What's wrong with the one you got?" the bearded man demanded.

Gauis patted the sword hilt at his hip. "Only got a couple uses left in it," he said. "I like to be prepared."

"Well without the captain's approval you ain't getting a replacement," the bearded man said, coming further intot he room and taking the sword from Gauis. He dumped it back on the shelf. "Now you get back out-"

A series of shouts and a muffled bang stopped whatever he might have said.

"You 'ear that?"

"Course I did, I ain't deaf," Gauis muttered, trying to see out of one of the narrow arrow slits in the wall. Smoke rose over the stables. _Crivens, what has that girl gotten into now?_

"Wonder what ol' Jael's up to," the bearded man mused, unconcerned. "You think that could be another one of his experiments?"

Gauis muttered something non-committal and darted from the room, back down the hall and through the bunks. Outside he headed straight for the stable. A handful of soldiers had gathered, at least two of them had started bringing horses out of the stable. One of them, he noticed, had blond hair sticking out from under her cap.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he hurried towards Lissa.

"I had to do something," she hissed at him, handing the horse over to another soldier as they slipped away in the confusion. "There was a man and –"

"Nevermind that," Gauis interrupted, trying to keep her from running. Nothing would look more suspicious than running away from the scene of the crime. "Let's just get out of here, but slowly! Stride, don't run."

They both wore tight expressions as they headed back out.

"Find what you forgot?" the guard sneered at them.

Gauis just grunted, holding back the urge to just run the man through with his sword and be done with it. He'd liked it better when the man had just been sleeping.


	23. Chapter 23

**Happy sunday! We've got a ridiculous amount of snow... ugh I don't like winter!**

**/Zen**

* * *

Gregor sat on a tree stump watching Sully beat the living daylights out of Vaike. For all the axeman boasted, he was a decent fighter, but he could not match Sully's passion. The red-haired woman never let him land a single hit. On the offensive, she backed him into one corner and then another. It was all he could do to keep her at bay.

Chuckling to himself, Gregor thought perhaps she was missing Stahl. The scouts had been gone nearly a week, a period of time which felt long when you were stuck in one place waiting. It was beginning to feel long for him as well. He'd organized the day watch earlier, as Chrom had asked. And as he'd predicted, the others were not happy about it. Of course, after the storm the other day they understood why.

And there were the Risen from last night. The Risen Arkelle and Lon'qu had fought off. Scratching at his chin, Gregor wondered how the two of them had both happened to be out there. He'd certainly only set Arkelle for camp watch.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the sight of a black swirly cloak between two of the tents. _Tharja._

She'd promised to do his spell next, something he meant to hold her to no matter what it took. He'd just made up his mind to go after her, when a voice stopped him.

"Here, Gregor. Catch."

Grateful for reflexes honed from a life on the road, Gregor's hand closed automatically around the small sack of gold which came his way. He glanced at it with a raised eyebrow then up at the man before him. Lon'qu stood before him, his face a mask. Speak of the devil.

"Oh? Is little bag of coins," Gregor mused, hefting it and measuring its value through the weight by habit. A useful skill he'd picked up. "You give Gregor pocket money?"

"You told me when you joined a sellsword never fights unless it's for money, right?" Lon'qu demanded. The man stood rigid with the sun at his back. His dark eyes were narrowed and his feet set like he was expecting a fight.

Gregor felt a kind of weariness settling on his shoulders. He had a feeling he knew where this would be going.

"Well, there's your money," Lon'qu said, nodding at the coins. "Now I order you to fight me for true."

"Oy," Gregor said, heaving himself to his feet, "you know how to persuade Gregor. Jingly coins is like music to ears – but please, tell Gregor why you are wanting to fight him so badly. You are thinking this is first stage in defeating Basilio, yes?"

The swordmaster narrowed his eyes. "When I paid your fee," he replied levelly, "I don't remember asking you to prattle on like a hen."

Grinning, Gregor slipped the bag of coins into one of the pouches at his belt. "Oy, this one is being a strict paymaster. Okay, we fight. But first," he said, holding up a thick finger, "conditions! We are being comrades in same army, so no fighting 'until death'. Such things makes many people very sad. Especially ladies."

"We will stop when one of us yields or overwhelming victory is assured," Lon'qu intoned. He held himself very still, taut as a bow string. He seemed ready for anything, but was he?

_Why is the lad so eager to die? _Gregor wondered. Not that he had any intention of killing him. He knew one person in particular who might be very sad if such a thing happened. Assuming he was still as good at reading people as he used to be. A grin crawled across his face at the thought. He hadn't lied when he'd said smitten ladies took deaths hard. And when lady in question was a Sheperd capable of cutting him in half, he was even less eager to incur wrath. He liked being in one piece.

"What are you smiling about?"

"Is nothing," Gregor chuckled. Taking a deep breath and rolling his shoulders, he faced Lon'qu squarely. "Now, when are we beginning?"

"No time like the present..."

Having anticipated such a response, Gregor cleared his sword and whipped it up – pausing just below the collar of Lon'qu's lapel. "Okay! Gregor win."

"What?" The younger man seemed stunned. Stunned – and already flushing to the tips of his ears.

"Oh? You do not notice?" Gregor asked, trying to sound sincere although the moment was becoming more and more amusing. "Look at chest. See? Gregor's sword is already poised to thrust."

"H-How did you –"

"Ah, yes. Gregor sees chink in armor." He flicked his wrist and the blade responded, moving upwards to rest against the vein in the other man's neck. "Here, at throat."

Lon'qu grunted, forced to raise his chin to avoid being cut by the blade. He held himself rigid, anger making the younger man clench his fists. There was nothing else he could do.

"Don't move," Gregor admonished, raising his free hand to shake his finger. "If sneezing, even tiny bit, sword goes into neck. Very messy. Gregor sharpened very good just other day. This counts as 'overwhelming victory assurance,' yes?"

"Damn you," Lon'qu gritted out around his clenched teeth. His eyes flashed. "You only won through trickery!"

"Is no trick," the sellsword replied. "Is speed! Is also why Basilio so much stronger than Lon'qu." He watched as that comment hit home. Some of the anger drained from the other man and resignation took its place.

"Curse you..."

"Lon'qu is young fool now," Gregor said, lowering his sword slowly and keeping his eyes locked on the younger man. "But Gregor sees much potential. You will learn. Now! Gregor has other things to see to."

Without wasting another moment, he turned and headed towards the gap where he thought he'd seen Tharja pass by before Lon'qu had caught him. His belt pouched jingled pleasantly, although instead of enjoying the sound Gregor felt tempted to remove the coins and place them aside. Leave them on a table somewhere...

What was he thinking? He always fought for money! That was the life of a sellsword. It was how he had made a living, and how he had kept going. But now... Now the money felt ten times its weight in his pouch, like it was dragging him down.

_Lon'qu gave money freely,_ he told himself. The thought did not help.


	24. Chapter 24

**I would have got this update up a lot sooner if I hadn't got distracted by Pentatonix on youtube... seriously, I just watched all their vids from when they were on the Sing-Off. And then I found that Sam Tsui guy... Clearly I coulda been doing other things!**

**/Zen**

* * *

The sun beat down on the camp without a wind to ease the heat. I'd given up on wearing my full cloak early this morning when I'd starting sweating over breakfast. Some days I'd give my left arm to be a yak and not have sweat glands.

With my linen shirt tucked into my breaches and belt, I cut through camp toward the supply tent. I wanted to talk to Cordelia – partly to see how Sumia was making out and partly to check on our supplies after that storm. Maybe see if there was a better sword for me in there somewhere too.

Despite my lack of practice in the last couple of days, I hoped I might be ready for something a little heavier. I'd grown fairly fond of my short sword, but fighting the Risen the other night had made me realize there might be a better choice. Something more practical. Not a broad sword – those things weighed a ton. Cordelia would know what was best.

I was nearly there when Chrom caught up with me.

Hailing me down, he jogged over. In a rare surrender to the heat, he'd left his cloak and shoulder guard behind. His bare arms were well defined muscle and his dark blue hair shaded his eyes. A faint sheen of sweat glistened on his face. I imagined I had more than a _faint sheen_. I was probably sweating like a dog. Nothing I could do about that. It was hot out, and I couldn't just jump into the river whenever I felt like it.

Maybe royals were like yaks...

"Is that face for me?" he asked, slowing now that he'd reached me.

"Hm?" I said, blinking. "Oh, ha, no. I was just thinking about yaks."

"...Yaks?"

Laughing, I shook my head. "Nevermind. I'm on my way to the supply tent. I wanted to check on a few things."

"Well don't let me keep you." Chrom fell in step beside me and we walked, albeit slowly, towards the tent. "I've been meaning to talk to you," he said after a minute. "About the other day. The day of the storm."

This was exactly why I'd been avoiding him. Aside from the other day when we'd had our meeting, I hadn't spent any time alone with him. During the meeting he'd been distracted by the problem of Gangrel and the Risen. That had kept his mind in a safe place.

"Chrom..."

He stopped, touching my arm so I stopped too. I found it very hard to face him like this – even though it was broad daylight and we were just standing in the middle of the camp, I felt like it was too private. Like we were too secluded. I needed space – I needed fresh air. Which was completely ridiculous because we were _outside._ Unfortunately, knowing that didn't make me feel any better.

With his fingers lingering on my arm he said: "Things are upside down right now-"

"To say the least," I said before I could stop myself. Biting my tongue I made a mental note to bang my head into the nearest wall - after he was out of sight.

"Yes," he agreed with a smile. "We didn't meet under the most fortuitous of circumstances, but I _am_ glad we met. If we'd met somewhere else-"

"But that wouldn't have ever happened," I told him with a chuckle. Gods I really couldn't let him just say what he wanted to, could I? His hand dropped from my arm. "I was lying in a _field_. If you hadn't found me, I'd likely have never met you at all. Or any of the Shepherds."

"And that would've been a shame," he said with a smile. "What would things be like if we'd never met?"

I shrugged and caught a glimpse of Gregor over Chrom's shoulder. The mercenary raised his eyebrows and walked off with a smirk on his face. I half-wished he'd have come over and interrupted. "There's no point in wondering about what might have been," I told Chrom, feeling the irony.

"Yes well –"

"Arkelle – oh!"

We both turned, just in time to see Sumia catch herself a moment short of falling on her face. She'd been carrying a trio of lances and as she'd gone to fall, they'd hit the ground and stopped her short. Luckily she hadn't speared herself with any of them.

"Are you alright?" Chrom asked, striding over to Sumia and helping her up straight with a hand on her elbow. The girl blushed crimson, looking up at him and then over at me.

"I SWEAR I'm getting better," she burst out as she stood straight again.

"I'm sure you are," I said, surprised by her fervor. Chrom looked ready to say something else, maybe ask a question, when Cordelia appeared from between two of the tents on my left. Her long red hair was actually tied back and sweat glistened on her brow. She'd been working hard at something, that much was obvious. The focused look on her face froze for a moment when she saw Chrom standing next to Sumia and then she flushed, the red in her cheeks nearly matching her hair.

"Cordelia," I said, pulling her attention over my way, "I was just coming to look for you."

"Oh, Arkelle," she said. The blush faded and curiosity flashed in her eyes. "You were looking for me?"

"Seems like everyone was looking for someone," Chrom said. I chose to ignore the wry note in his voice. It might bother him that we'd been interrupted, but I was fine with it. Let it pass another day – there were more important things to think of. More pressing things that needed my attention.

"I was just coming to see if Sumia had finally found the lances from the sparring ring," Cordelia said, placing her hands on her hips. "I was starting to think you'd gotten lost!"

It was Sumia's turn to blush. "I had to wait for Sully to finish practice, and then I tripped –"

Cordelia laughed, a sound like bells in the fresh air. "I ought to set a stack of tomes on your head and teach you balance that way!"

"She's getting better," I said gently. Sumia might take some work, but she was putting in the effort. She gave me a grateful smile, then her mouth formed an O like she'd just remembered something important. "What is it?" I asked.

Her eyes went to Chrom. "Sully was looking for you," the girl said. "She says you owed her a match?"

He frowned. "I suppose I do."

_That's right_, I thought. They'd agreed to a match just a day or two ago. The same as the day of the storm. He glanced at me, still frowning, then sighed. The moment was so brief I wasn't sure the others noticed.

"Well," he said with a trace of a smile now, "I should probably go find her. If I don't, Sully might tear the camp apart trying to find me. She doesn't let a thing like that go lightly." He hesitated, looking at me. "We'll talk again later."

I nodded, trying to keep my face neutral.

"Well," Sumia said brightly, "I'm going to take these lances to the weapons' tent. Do you need anything else Cordelia?"

The red head glanced at me. "I think Arkelle has use of me, so you're free Sumia."

"Thanks!" The girl headed off in a hurry, making me wince as the lances wavered in her grip.

"She may yet kill someone," I muttered, watching her go.

"She'll be fine. She really has been getting better," Cordelia said, glancing at me out of the corner of her eye. "What was Chrom talking to you about?"

I shrugged. "Just a conversation we never get to finish. It's not important," I added, remembering the red-headed guard fancied the Prince of Ylisse. "I've been meaning to come talk to you though. About our supplies. I want to make sure we've got enough to pull us through to Gangrel's fortress. I know the storm did a little damage."

Cordelia nodded. "There was very little damage, thanks to your quick thinking. We lost some of the feed for the animals, but if we graze them until we move on I think we can make up for it."

"Good idea," I agreed. We walked through the last few tents, going through the list of things which had been lost or damaged in the storm. Cordelia was right – we'd been lucky and lost little, and what we had lost she'd itemized and looked after. The biggest loss had been the tent itself.

"I cleared out the tent I shared with Sumia and Panne," Cordelia said. "The equipment and supplies are more important than our space."

I stopped. "Why didn't you say anything?" I demanded. "I have a tent all to myself – one of you can come and stay with me at least. I've more than enough room!"

Cordelia smiled at me and shook her head. "You're the tactician, Arkelle. You have your own tent for a reason."

No matter how I argued, the girl wouldn't be moved.


	25. Chapter 25

**Despite internet issues, here we are! Happy Friday.**

**Aurora - I'm posting the one-shot you requested as we speak (a fluffy one shot of Avatar x Lon'qu). It's called _How You Remind Me._ I think writing that taught me I'm very good at angst haha. I hope you enjoy it anyway! **

**/Zen**

* * *

After I was through seeing to the inventory with Cordelia – which took less time than I'd thought – I found myself heading towards the sparring ring. Like pretty much everyone else in the camp.

"Ah, Arkelle is coming to watch show, yes?" Gregor asked, one eyebrow raised. Cheers and chatter filled the air, like there was some sort of party going on.

"Might as well see what everyone's talking about," I said. Two sleepless nights in a row were beginning to wear on me, but I was as curious as the next person.

Gregor's big rough hand braced me for a second as I wobbled. I shook free.

"I'm not going to fall over," I told him wryly, pushing my hair back from my face and rubbing my eyes.

The mercenary shrugged. "Lots to be thinking, probably does not make for much sleeping." He gave me a devilish look. "Gregor has cure for this."

"No," I said, "no more of your old-well-tasting drinks. Please."

He feigned hurt, one hand to his chest. "Oh, but is good! Really works, Gregor swears it. Gives many good dreams too," he added with a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows.

"I think I'll take my chances," I told him with a laugh. We rounded the corner and came to the sparring area. Even Miriel was there with her notebook open and pen darting across the pages. Ricken leaned over the short weapons' rack set up on the left side of the area, bright-eyed and taking in every lunge and each block.

Sully and Chrom were really giving them something to watch. They used practice swords, which was just as well because with the force they were using they would have taken a limb off with anything else. I was surprised the wooden blades did not break. Both wore sleeveless tunics, sweat soaked through the backs and streaming down their faces.

I smiled. This was good for everyone – Chrom included. Good for morale, and good to give him an outlet for his frustration. It made my hands itch to practice again. Cordelia had found me a better sword, one inlaid with silver in the handle. Its comforting weight hung at my side.

The crossing of the practice swords was loud in the small clearing. From one stance to another, the two moved quickly. Chrom was a little more graceful, but also more showy. He'd been taught by the finest tutor's Ylisse could offer, no doubt. Sully put all her strength and energy into each attack, rarely on the defensive. If she did parry, she turned it into a thrust that swept the wooden blade close to Chrom's throat.

Chrom swung between them, pushing Sully's blade aside. The red head dodged a step backwards, narrowly missing his followup which would have taken off her nose most likely. Spinning right she brought her sword upwards with a stroke that could have gutted any of the Risen from the previous night. Chrom twisted aside, his sword flowing through the turn and aiming for her neck. With a grin, Sully threw herself into a backwards roll. Murmurs of approval rose among the watchers.

I slipped away from Gregor and saw Lon'qu standing a little apart from the others, next to Ricken. _Maybe he's pointing out stuff from the fight,_ I thought. But no, he seemed content to let Ricken watch and learn for himself. I stepped up next to him.

"How long have they been fighting?" I asked.

The swordsmaster glanced at me without turning his head. He stood stiffly with his hands clasped behind his back and watched the two practicing sullenly. "For several long minutes. A mistake will be made soon."

"Not Chrom," Ricken piped up. "He never makes mistakes!"

"Everyone gets tired."

I looked up at Lon'qu's face and raised an eyebrow. "What's the matter with you?" I asked. "You look like you lost a bet and aren't the least bit happy about it."

He shot me a look that ought to have skewered me where I stood.

"Don't make me go find more figs," I warned, raising my eyebrows and crossing my arms.

He let out a heavy sigh, although the dark look on his face did not change. "You could say I lost a bet. It appears I have much to learn."

"Well you can't have bet on these two," I said, gesturing at Chrom and Sully as one ducked a wide swing made by the other, "since they're still going at it. What kind of bet? With whom?" Then I saw Gregor watching us from off to the side, just a casual glance, but that was all I needed. I groaned. I knew Lon'qu had a bone to pick with the mercenary. Something that had to do with Regna Ferox and who was the better swordsman.

Sometimes men were frustrating.

Lon'qu followed my glance and stiffened. Then he sighed again and some of the tension melted from his shoulders.

"Look," I said, "whatever it is, you can deal with it. Make it a goal. Work towards it."

"All the practice in the world – " He cut himself off with a frustrated shake of his head. "It does not matter."

"It does," I argued, turning to face him. I drew myself up to my full height, although I was still a fair bit shorter than he was. "It matters to you, so you can't just brush it aside like that. But don't dwell on it until it poisons you either. That's just foolish."

The corner of his mouth lifted in what could almost pass for a smile. "Heh. Straight to the point. You really have a way with words, don't you."

"Hey," I said, a grin replacing my frown as I pointed at his face, "was that a laugh?"

His expression flattened. "No."

"It was, don't deny it!"

A disappointed moan went up from the gathered crowd around us. I turned and saw Sully had landed the practice sword across the upper part of Chrom's shoulder. He went down on one knee as I watched, but held tight to the sword in his right hand. It lay alongside Sully's side, and her face screwed up in a wince.

"That," Lon'qu said, "is how you want to lose a fight if you must lose."

"But he didn't lose," Ricken protested, turning to face us. He tipped his head back a bit to meet Lon'qu's eyes.

"It is always a loss if you are struck."

"But –"

"Always," Lon'qu repeated.

Ricken frowned hard before turning his attention back to the ring. Chrom and Sully both stood now, shaking hands and grinning. Vaike was there, slapping them on the back. Maribelle butted in, waving her staff around and making sure that everyone was alright.

"Was good fight," Gregor said, appearing from nowhere and clasping one big hand on my shoulder.

"Yes," I agreed. "It was good for everyone."

The sellsword nodded, glancing at Lon'qu who was pointedly looking anywhere else but at him. "You should get some practice too, yes?" Gregor suggested.

I rolled my eyes. "I think I'm good," I told him.

"Lon'qu says practice is as necessary as breathing," Ricken said, turning around again. Chrom was re-buckling his sword belt to his waist, still talking to the others but no longer doing anything the boy was afraid of missing. "He says you can't hope to live if you don't practice every day."

"Does he now?"

"Lon'qu very serious," Gregor agreed. "And very true. All should practice. Come," he added, extending an arm to Ricken, "tell Gregor what else Lon'qu has been teaching."

The boy went eagerly, speaking quickly before they'd even got out of ear shot. Lon'qu took a step after them, but I stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"Let them go," I said. "He's not doing any harm."

The swordmaster glared after the other two, his jaw clenched tight. "He thinks he is so much better –"

"Who, Gregor?" I asked with a chuckle. "No he doesn't. He just likes to meddle."

Lon'qu didn't look like he was going to let it go. I glanced around, noticing how everyone else seemed to have drifted off as well, returning to their tasks. As I watched, Miriel snapped her book shut and walked off with Frederick.

"What about that match?" I asked, turning back to Lon'qu.

"Hm?"

"The match you wanted," I said, moving into the now-empty area of the ring. "Practice is as necessary as breathing?"

He hesitated a moment then followed me into the area. We unbuckled our belts without a word, lying them next to the rack which held the practice swords. The wooden handle was smooth under my hand, the weight a little heavier than I was used to.

"Ready?"


	26. Chapter 26

**I love these guys XD **

**Also, I'm glad you guys liked the one shot!**

**/Zen**

* * *

"Didn't I say NOT to attract attention?" Gaius shouted over his shoulder. There was no point in being quiet now. He heard the _thwap_ of a bowstring and leapt, tackling Panne to the ground. The taguel was not impressed, but didn't complain as the arrow came down an inch from her nose.

"We tried!" Stahl complained, running as fast as he could manage. His face was red and sweat ran down his temples. A long distance runner the guy was not.

"Is this really the place for an argument?" Lissa panted. Her cap had fallen off and her blond hair flew back from her face.

Another bowstring twanged behind them. Gauis called the warning and all four dodged aside.

"Well at least we know they have archers," he grumbled under his breath. The last thing he wanted was to become a pin cushion. "Up ahead, there's a ridge. Drop over it."

"Are you joking?" Lissa asked, glancing back at him with wide blue eyes.

"You _do_ remember last time?" Panne asked on top of that. She didn't pause in her zigzag pattern, her steps quick and sure.

Gauis grunted as he stumbled over a hole he hadn't seen. "Of course I do! Just trust me will you?"

There was no breath for further argument. He angled closer to Lissa. He could see the tension in her shoulders as they neared the edge. She was probably thinking of when she'd nearly fallen – but that had been a cliff. This ridge he remembered from before. If they could just get over it, there was a spot below that would conceal them and the drop was only about ten feet. They'd lose the marksmen and be free and clear.

Another arrow fell into the ground next to him. They just needed to get over that ridge.

"You ready?" he asked.

Lissa shook her head fiercely but didn't falter in her steps. Panne on his right was the first to go over. She shot him a single glance then leapt over the ridge, her dark hair and long ears flying up above her head. Stahl stumbled after her, his jump significantly less graceful.

"Over we go," Gauis said, coming up behind Lissa and wrapping an arm around her waist as they leapt over together. He ducked his head to avoid getting whacked by her staff and remembered to bend his knees at the last moment to absorb his landing.

Hands pulled them back under the overhang he remembered the instant they landed. Gauis stumbled, tripping over a rock so that Panne caught him under the arms with a grunt. He looked up at her face with a grin.

"Thanks Whiskers."

"Ow!"

Standing up, Gauis looked over to where Stahl was helping Lissa sit down. The blonde winced.

"I wasn't quick enough," the man said apologetically. "She fell back and struck her shoulder on the rock."

"Better than her head," Gauis muttered, freezing as he heard the pound of bootsteps.

Panne moved back further until she was pressed up against the rough clay wall, her eyes trained on the opening. "Will this hide us?"

"Keep quiet and it will," he told her, moving back as well. It wasn't a deep recess, but the front was hidden fairly well if you didn't know what you were looking for. He'd bet his last toffee those guards wouldn't be wanting to give too good a chase – and that they'd skip right over this place.

Muted voices carried through the air before being whipped away by the wind. The footsteps faded away. Gauis let out a sigh of relief.

"Okay Princess," he said, "let's have a look at that shoulder."

It was worse than he'd thought it would be. She'd torn her dress and actually put a decent gouge into the flesh. Most of the blood had dried already, crusting into the material of her dress, but at the center of the wound it still bled fresh.

Pressing gently at the edge of the gash he watched it bubble up and frowned.

"Unfortunately," Lissa said, "I can't self-heal."

"Lucky for you," Gauis told her, sitting back on his heels, "I happen to be great with a needle."

Her blue eyes widened. "I need stitches?"

He nodded, digging through his pockets for the packet with the needle and thread he always carried. He found a mint and handed it to the princess. She looked like she needed it more than he did.

"Whiskers, check and make sure they're gone. I'm gonna need better light than this to stitch up royal skin."

The taguel padded to the front, peering out. Stahl followed, crouching behind her and looking the other way. When they were confident no one was about, or at least not close enough to spot them, Stahl helped Lissa into the light.

Gauis held up his needle to thread it.

"Does sticking your tongue out in that matter help you?" Panne asked, her hands settled on her hips.

Gauis cleared his throat and knelt behind Lissa. "Never you just mind Fluffy. Now Princess," he said, shifting on his knees and looking at the wound again, "I need you to tug your sleeve down so I can get at it, alright?"

She did, and he winced for her as the material of her dress stuck to the blood.

"Hey Munchies, you got some cloth to spare there?" Gauis asked, looking pointedly at Stahl's long tunic. The cavalry man ripped two strips off the bottom and handed them over. Gauis soaked one with water from his flask, cleaning the dried blood away carefully. "Crivens," he muttered.

When it was clean enough, he started stitching up the gash. It wasn't as wide as he had thought, but it was still deep enough to need the needlework.

"It's a good thing," Lissa said breathlessly, her hands knotted in her skirt as he finished up, "that you have such neat stitches."

He grimaced. "Even so you should see Maribelle as soon as we get back. Can't have the Princess with a scar." He sliced the thread with a knife and let her tug her sleeve back up.

"What is the matter with scars?" Panne demanded. "They are proof of survival."

Lissa stood, her left hand gingerly exploring the stitches on her opposite shoulder. The expression on her face firmed. "Yeah, you're right. They _are_ proof. And they will remind me of my first scouting mission without my brother!"

"Alright alright," Gauis said, throwing his hands up. "But keep it down will you? We still gotta sneak out of here."

There was no more talk about scars, but Gauis smiled to himself as they headed off. She'd handled that better than he'd thought she would – heck, she'd handled that better than he'd took _his_ first round of stitches. His partner'd had to ply him with a sack of sweets before he'd held still long enough for the needle to puncture his skin.

He glanced upward at the sky. With luck, they'd be back at the main camp by tomorrow morning.


	27. Chapter 27

Tharja peered around the corner of the tent, pressed up against the canvas side of it as she watched the fight. Her palms sweated as she followed the flashing of wooden swords. Arkelle fought in her linen shirt and breeches, sweat glistening on her forehead and hair streaming out behind her. Lon'qu, however, remained in his full-length coat. Oddly enough, the heat didn't seem to bother him.

_Maybe he's used to it,_ she thought. She certainly felt the heat but was too stubborn to so much as remove her cloak. She usually preferred to stay indoors at the peak of the day, but the tents did little to ease the temperature here. What she wouldn't give for a dark, stone tower. Or some dungeons somewhere. A cauldron bubbling pleasantly in the background. When they finally got to settle down and stop camping everywhere she'd be more than grateful.

"What is evil girl doing?"

Nearly jumping out of her skin, Tharja spun to face Gregor who had snuck up behind her. For a man so large, he certainly could be quiet when he wanted to.

The abrupt turn put her off balance as her legs tangled. She was going to fall right into the tent and likely take it down with her. Even as she braced herself and felt the canvas tighten as it stretched to accommodate her weight, Gregor's big hand took hold of her wrist and tugged her back up – and right into him. If it had been anyone else, she might have thought he'd overcompensated on accident. Being Gregor and him grinning from ear to ear as he was, she knew he'd done it on purpose. She stood with her hands pressed flat against the broad expanse of his chest and one of his arms circled around behind her. His strong fingers pressed against the small of her back through the thin cloth of her cloak. Despite the heat, it made her want to shiver.

Glaring at him and trying to ignore the heat that filled her cheeks, she pushed against his chest and stepped back. He let her go, dropping the arm that had kept her in place against him. "That was completely unnecessary," she snapped.

"Is no need to thank Gregor," the red-haired mercenary laughed. His eyes twinkled at her like he knew how hard her heart was thudding. "Always wanting to help pretty lady from falling on face."

"I would have been just fine," she told him, re-adjusting her cloak over her shoulders. Anything to keep from focusing on him. "And keep your voice down."

"Why?" He did look curious then, and leaned forward to peer around the corner of the tent, completely invading her personal space to do was so close she could feel his body heat and smell the musky scent of earth and sweat that clung to him. Tharja grit her teeth but refused to give in by making a fuss about it.

"Ah! Evil girl is watching Arkelle," he said, moving back and raising his eyebrows at her. She wanted to wipe that smirk right off his face. If only she could hex him with something that would stick.

"What I do with my own time is none of your business," she told him with a sniff, crossing her arms.

He raised his hands in supplication. "Gregor does not mean to intrude… is only wondering if Tharja has finished spell. Read all tomes? Collect bat wing?"

She narrowed her eyes, surprised at the eagerness she recognized in his face, as much as he was trying to mask it. What could be so important he couldn't wait to give his soul away – that he couldn't wait to give himself up? Mentally, she shrugged it off. Whatever his reasons were, she would soon be able to actually set a hex that would stick. The thought sent a thrill of pleasure down her spine. There was little one couldn't do when given control of a willing soul.

"I'm nearly ready," she told him. "It must be tonight."

"Why? Is moon full?"

Tharja rolled her eyes. "Can you do it or not?"

"Of course," he said hurriedly, "Gregor is very much wanting to talk to dead person. He will have another take over watch tonight."

Raising her chin she said: "Good. Then I have other things to do." She swept by him, her cloak brushing his arm, and hurried off as fast as she could without running. She was nearly as eager to run the spell as he was. _Because he will be mine to do with as I please. _That was what she told herself.

She was half-way through the camp, planning on hiding out in her own tent for a little while away from the sun and Gregor's grin, when she heard a familiar-sounding sob. Pausing mid-stride, she listened. A sniff and a hiccup. Before she could consider what it was that she was doing, Tharja moved to the nearest tent and peered inside.

"Nowi?"

The little manakete lifted her head from her knees and rubbed a hand over her eyes. "Tharja? What are you doing in here?"

The sorceress felt her stomach twist a little at the sight of the girl's puffy red eyes and mussed hair. It stood up in cowlicks and stuck to her damp cheeks. "You figured it out, didn't you," she said as she moved further into the tent. "About your parents?"

"What do you mean?" Nowi asked, her wide eyes still glistening with tears. She ran one hand through her tangled hair, trying to smooth the snarls. "You have more news?"

Tharja exhaled sharply and set her hands onto her hips. "Stop it, Nowi. You don't have to pretend. I can tell you've been crying. And I know why." _I know it's my fault_, she added silently. She didn't want to feel responsible for the hurt on the girl's face, but she did anyway. And she didn't like it. Feelings got in the way of everything else, but she was finding it harder and harder to block them out these days. Her sympathy for Nowi - not even pity, but actual sympathy - actually pained her. And the way she felt when she was around Gregor... that was most disturbing.

"I don't cry! I'm really strong!" Nowi protested, but her sniff ruined the statement. The manakete looked at her feet, talking like she was trying to convince herself more than anything else. "Besides, nothing bad has happened. Mom and dad are just... far away. So I don't have any reason to cry." She looked up suddenly, giving a big smile that threatened to break her face. "Look, I'm fine, all right?"

Tharja winced. Just looking at the smile made her face hurt. "All right," she said, sighing. "You weren't crying. I was clearly mistaken." Tharja turned. She ought to leave. Nowi didn't want her help or her... comfort, if that's what she'd been meaning to offer. Clearly there was nothing more for her to do here. But still she hesitated.

Glancing back, she added: "Oh, I almost forgot. I decided to look into your future the other day."

The manakete looked up curiously. "You did?"

Tharja nodded. "You survive the war, and you end up living a very happy life. Every day is full of laughter," she added with a faint smile, "and you're never lonely again."

"Well that sounds just like now!" Nowi giggled, brightening for real this time. "I have you, and all the Shepherds, and every day is super fun!"

"And it's only going to get better." She reached out, touching one of the girl's damp cheeks. "So dry those tears."

Nowi sniffed, raising her chin. "What tears? I'm strong, remember?"

Tharja chuckled to herself. "So you are, Nowi. So you are." She turned and ducked under the tent flap, leaving the girl to collect herself.


	28. Chapter 28

**I've got a distinctly unpleasant sore throat right meow... but here's your new chapter! A lil' more of our favourite couple who aren't quite a couple yet ;)**

**/Zen**

* * *

"You're so serious!" I laughed, dancing out of Lon'qu's reach. His face was grim as he followed, each step precise and his sword arm never wavered. I blew my bangs out of my face and waited.

"There is nothing amusing about facing an opponent," he said.

I begged to differ. Gripping the hilt of my wooden practice sword, I stepped within range and attacked in the same moment. He was ready of course – he was always ready. The sound of our swords meeting was like the crack of a tree limb snapping. The impact reverberated up my arm as I spun, using my momentum to bring me around back of him.

Lon'qu turned as well – but not before I bumped his shoulder with mine and danced back out of reach. He glared at me, dark eyes sparking, but I only grinned back.

"You challenged me, remember?" He advanced, bringing his sword up towards my left side. I met the wooden blade with my own, again using the momentum. Rolling this time, I came up onto my knees and swiped a leg out towards him.

He didn't expect that and stumbled, his sword flailing as he brought his hands out for balance.

Standing again I said: "I remember, but I didn't say I'd play fair."

He grunted, facing me once more with both of his hands wrapped around the hilt. Three steps from him closed the distance between us. This time he attacked from above, the blade rushing towards my shoulder. Being shorter than he was and having less upper body strength, I was at a disadvantage in that kind of an attack – and he knew it. So I avoided it entirely.

Ducking under his raised arms, I pivoted and thwacked his shoulder with the butt of my sword. Lon'qu stumbled again, but caught my side with a backhanded swing. I stumbled back, clutching at my ribs.

"Hey! I was gentle," I protested.

"I do not believe we agreed upon rules," he replied. Was it my imagination or were the corners of his mouth quirking upwards? That was close enough to a smile – for him.

I rushed him, my sword raised in both hands. He met the blade and we stood for a second, our swords crossed between our faces. I grinned and winked at him. Lon'qu jerked backwards like I'd spit in his eye, and I shoved at the same time. He tumbled back into the dirt with a grunt.

He lay there a moment, his eyes closed and his arms splayed out to the side. His right hand still clutched the wooden sword.

I knew I hadn't hurt him, but moved closer and bent over him. My hair dangled like a curtain on either side of my face. "You okay down there?" I asked, trying not to laugh.

His hand shot out, fingers wrapping around my ankle and pulling it out from under me. I landed with a thump on the ground next to him. Air left my body in a whoosh.

"Ow," I said, blinking hard as I tried to get my breath back. "Guess I deserved that."

He chuckled softly.

"Gregor hates to be breaking up with the fun, but he has favour to ask."

I squinted against the sunlight and saw Gregor silhouetted above me. Lon'qu sat up quickly, his face hardening back into a mask. Men.

"What kind of a favour?" I asked, raising a hand. Gregor's larger hand swallowed mine and he tugged, pulling me to my feet. I brushed the dirt from my pants and straightened my shirt.

"Gregor is needing someone to take watch shift tonight," he said, the words spilling out quickly. The mercenary actually looked a little sheepish about it.

"Of course," I said at the same time Lon'qu said: "No."

I looked over at the swordmaster with my eyebrows raised and though he flushed to his ears, he didn't take it back.

"The watch is set," Lon'qu explained. "You have already taken your turn."

"He wouldn't ask if there wasn't something else needing his attention," I said with a shrug. "And it's not like I sleep anyway."

"That is sure," Gregor grunted, folding his big arms now. "Gregor has – "

"Yes, I know," I laughed, interrupting him. "There's a drink to cure that I'm sure. But I'll skip, thanks."

"Arkelle will do this thing for Gregor?"

"Sure," I said, nodding. I pointedly did not look at Lon'qu when I said it. I could make my own decisions, and I didn't much like it when someone else thought to make them for me.

"Thank you," the mercenary said, shocking me with the sincerity. He glanced at Lon'qu then left abruptly, without even a parting joke.

"Well," I said, blinking, "that was different."

Lon'qu grunted and moved to the side of the area, back towards the weapons' wrack to put his sword down. After a moment I followed, pushing my hair back from my face with my free hand. Relinquishing the wooden blade, I re-buckled my belts and stretched.

"It's a good thing we're done then," I said. "If I'm taking watch tonight I have a bunch of stuff to do beforehand. I have to talk to Chrom," I added, more to myself. Frowning, I thought of the handful of half-finished conversations we'd had over the last couple days. I'd been avoiding him, and now, after a little distance, I realized how foolish that was.

First and foremost I was his tactician, which meant I had a job to do. A job which dictated the lives of those around me. Avoiding Chrom was dangerous to that job, and thus dangerous for each of the Shepherds.

Squaring my shoulders, I decided before anything else I'd search Chrom out.

Lon'qu's hand on my shoulder jerked me from my thoughts. I looked up at him. His dark hair brushed his eyes and a sheen of sweat glistened at his temples. His hand dropped once he had my attention, but my bare skin burned where his fingers had been.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

A shiver went through me and I shook myself, looking away and straightening my belt. "Of course. I'm just thinking about what needs to be done."

He nodded. "I will see you tonight then." He began to walk off, but I called him back.

"What do you mean? I'm on watch," I said, my brows pinching in confusion. "Remember?"

His expression didn't change. "Yes, and I will be there as well."

He left then and I could only shake my head. Apparently he could be just as stubborn as I was. Smiling, I turned and nearly smacked right into Ricken.

"Gods Ricken!" I grabbed his shoulders and let out a shaken breath.

"Sorry! I didn't meant to scare you." The red head gave me an apologetic smile and tugged his floppy hat a little tighter on his head.

Straightening, I let go of him and wiped a hand over my face. My heart slowed its panicked pace. "It's alright. What can I do for you?"

He shook his head. "Nothing, I was just watching you fight and I wanted to say you're amazing!"

I raised my eyebrows at him. "I'm really not that good," I said.

"Lon'qu is pretty much the best swordsman in the Shepherds," Ricken said, "but you avoided most of his attacks! You even managed to land your own strikes. Unconventional, but you _did_ land them."

I felt myself blushing. I hadn't realized anyone had been watching. "Avoiding isn't the same as meeting a strike," I began but he cut me off in his excitement.

"But if you avoid a strike altogether you aren't wasting any energy," he said. "You don't get hurt in the block and you're no longer in the way of the blade. I want to be able to do that!"

Laughing, I put my hands on my hips. "Well, keep practicing I guess. It might be the tactician in me," I added, "but half the reason I avoid the attacks is because I know my own weaknesses. I train hard, but I don't have the strength a lot of the other Shepherds do. So I use what I do have instead."

We started walking away from the practice area and Ricken frowned up at me, not following what I meant. I poked the side of his head with one finger.

"My brain," I told him. "If I can't out-muscle someone, I outsmart them. Not every battle is won by strength alone – if it was, the Shepherds would have lost long ago."

"Because we're usually outnumbered?" he asked, clutching a tome to his chest.

I nodded. "That does seem to happen to us a lot. Plus we're almost always walking into unfamiliar territory."

Ricken frowned, looking straight ahead as we walked. "I hope Gauis gets back with the others soon. We need to know what Gangrel's fortress looks like so you can make a plan."

He looked so worried that I stopped and took him by the shoulder. Meeting his eyes I said: "Don't worry okay? I'll make sure you get out of this so you can go back and tell your parents all about how you dismembered the Risen with one hand tied behind your back." I winked at him as he blushed crimson.

"I don't dismember anybody!" he protested. His cheeks flushed a rosy red.

Laughing I let him go and tugged his hat down further over his eyes. He shoved it up and glared at me, but the look was ruined by the grin on his freckled face.

"Get on with you," I told him, still smiling. "I've got to go see Chrom."


	29. Chapter 29

**To those of you still reading this - thank you! I keep finding more to write XD**

**/Zen**

* * *

"Look," I said, "there's something we need to talk about. It's important that I explain myself properly – so don't interrupt! I do have feelings for you, but I feel like – I mean – oh!" Frustrated, I ran a hand through my hair, grimacing when my fingers got tangled in a knot.

"You aren't being very helpful," I told the tree I'd been practicing my speech on. It remained where it was, scraggly and unresponsive. I snorted at it and glanced at Chrom's tent. It was about a dozen steps ahead and to the left of where I stood. I had to talk to him – I'd decided that – but now I wasn't so sure what I was going to say. Figuring out a route in battle, now that was something I could do. I had a knack for seeing weakness and for doing the unexpected. Why couldn't I look at this like a battle?

Sighing heavily, I started towards the tent. I couldn't avoid it any longer. The more I put it off, the more reasons I'd gather to not do it at all.

I stood in front of the heavy flaps, taking a deep breath and trying to calm my heart. My pulse beat faster than I would have liked, blood pounding in my ears. I couldn't believe I was afraid of the man who had given me a chance – who had trusted me. But here I was, shaking in my boots.

"It's just Chrom," I told myself. Yeah, just the Prince. No big deal at all. Rolling my eyes at myself, I raised my voice: "Chrom?"

His head appeared between the flaps, surprising me enough that I jerked back. "Arkelle?"

"Do you have a minute?" I asked.

His dark sapphire eyes searched my face. "Of course, I always have time for my favourite tactician."

I snorted. "I'm your _only _tactician."

He laughed and held the flap aside. "Come on in. I've been meaning to speak with you anyway."

"I know." I stepped through, my hands clasped tightly behind my back. I was still in my shirt and breeches, but found myself wishing I'd stopped to grab my cloak. I stood stiffly, waiting until he'd settled himself behind the lone table still scattered with maps, books, and half a dozen quills. His dark hair was mussed, casting shadows across his fine-featured face. His cloak and shoulder guard lay across a chair, discarded, leaving him in his dark blue tunic. It showed off his strong shoulders and the family tattoo branded into his skin.

"I'd like to apologize," I blurted out, pulling my eyes from his body to his face. "I've been distracted the last couple of days, shirking the responsibilities you gave me. I've let my own thoughts and worries pull my mind away from what's important, and I'm sorry."

Chrom looked at me a long moment, a faint smile on his face. He almost looked fond, which set my heart beating faster still. "You're tired," he said. When I started to protest he raised a hand. "I know you work hard – as hard as any of the Shepherds – and there's a lot of pressure on you. We can't do this without you, which is why," he added, coming around the table to stand in front of me, "I am ordering you to take the rest of the day off. No practicing, no researching, no planning."

"But –"

"No buts," he said firmly. His hand rested on my arm and squeezed gently as he met my eyes. "You should relax a bit. Put your feet up. Experienced soldiers rest when they can. On a campaign like this, you never know when the next battle might break out. You've come a long way since we met in that field, and you've become a very important part of this team. I apologize if I haven't noticed how hard you've been pushing yourself. I don't want you to feel unappreciated."

I shook my head but couldn't make my voice work to protest. This wasn't what I'd meant to say.

"I'd like to think we've become good friends," Chrom added, his eyes piercing mine, "and friends look out for one another. Now go get some rest. There will be more than enough time for everything else once our scouts get back."

Friends. Was that what he wanted? If it was, I could do that. I wanted to do that.

"Okay."

He nudged me forward and smiled. "Go on then."

I didn't know what else to say without sounding like a complete idiot. Were we okay then? I wanted to ask, but I didn't want to say something to upset the balance that had just been struck. I walked out of his tent and passed the tree I'd practiced on earlier. I glared at it.

"Lot of help you were," I told it.

"Aw, what did the tree ever do to you?"

I turned and saw Sumia smiling at me, her hands clutched behind her back. The pegasus knight moved closer, taking care of where she placed her feet. She smelled of fresh grass. Did Cordelia have her out with the horses making sure they grazed to help us ration the feed? I wondered how that was going.

"Hey Sumia," I said, trying to hold back my sigh.

"You okay?" She asked. "You look tired."

"Why does everyone ask me that?" I replied, pressing my lips together. Sumia gave me a look with a surprising amount of accusation in it. "What?"

She came up to me, looping her arm through mine and turning me around so that we walked toward the interior of the camp.

"It's because of those lovely dark circles under your eyes," she explained. "And how you're always running around muttering to yourself."

"I don't mutter!"

"So you weren't talking to a tree two minutes ago?"

I flushed and looked away, kicking at a dirt lump in my way.

"Relax," she told me, jiggling my arm. "You just need to wind down a little. Have some fun."

"We _are_ in the middle of a war," I said dryly.

"Yes, but right this second there's a blue sky up above and you're surrounded by good people."

"Speaking of good people," I said, clearing my throat, "how are things going with Cordelia?"

Sumia smiled and a determined light entered her eyes. "I'm getting better all the time. I think she's starting to rub off on me!"

"Oh really?"

"I only tripped once today," she said, holding up a single finger. "She's been running me ragged, but I can't complain. She works herself even harder than she works anyone else. I think it was the best thing for me, and she makes a pretty good friend too."

I was glad to hear it. Glancing up, I saw my tent dead ahead of us. Had she planned this?

"I think you should get some of that rest we were talking about," Sumia said with a wink, lifting her chin towards my tent. "Go on. If anyone asks, I'll tell them you're out collecting bat wings with Tharja."

"Does she really do that?" I asked, curious and disturbed at the same time. What were bat wings even good for?

Sumia laughed and waved, leaving me be. Taking a deep breath, I ducked under the flap of my tent and let if fall behind me. I fingered the sleeve of my cloak where I'd left it hanging this morning. Why did I feel like I'd been confined to my tent like some child?

_Well, I do have the night watch. With Lon'qu_. I shivered at the thought and picked up my cloak, threading my arms through the sleeves and laying down for a nap. I lay there for a long while thinking about my conversation with Chrom and about how I would get to see Lon'qu later tonight. I fell asleep still thinking of him.


	30. Chapter 30

**Hello to the new followers! You guys seriously make my day when I get those notifications lol. And it's going to get so goooood sooooon *is excited***

**Aurora: Good to know you're still keeping up with this monster of a story lol. thanks!**

**/Zen out**

* * *

"How's your shoulder doing princess?" Gauis asked, glancing over. The sun had begun to set, but they hadn't stopped. By unspoken agreement they were intent to continue journeying through the night. A sense of urgency had them stepping quickly through the fading twilight. No matter what he told himself, he couldn't stop checking over his shoulder. As much as he wanted to think they were just that good, he couldn't believe they'd lost the soldiers so easily after the ridge.

"It's okay," Lissa said, lifting her shoulders in a tentative stretch. Though she tried to mask it, he saw the little wince she gave, and it plucked at his insides.

Twice while under his care she'd gotten hurt. First the cliff where she'd nearly fallen to her death and then her shoulder after he'd told her to jump. What was Chrom going to say? Gauis groaned. He wasn't in the mood for a lecture, but he deserved it didn't he?

Served him right for taking responsibility for something other than confections.

On his other side, Panne lifted her arms high above her head and cracked her jaws in a yawn. Her white teeth flashed briefly. Their long day was catching up with all of them.

Up ahead he could see the shadowy figure that was Stahl, taking the lead for now. The man had made a weak attempt at complaining about scrounging up some food, but even he hadn't really wanted to stop. Stahl was just as wary, his eyes constantly searching the trees and foliage around them.

Gauis felt his own stomach rumble and covered it with a hand, like that might stifle the sound. He was down to his last lollipop – wait no, he'd eaten that when they'd crossed the stream. _Don't think about it,_ he told himself. It was hard to concentrate like this; he needed a sugar boost in a bad way. It was even harder to stay awake. His eyelids drooped and he blinked hard.

He opened his mouth to say something, feeling uncomfortable with the sleepy silence settling over them, when he saw Stahl stiffen up ahead. The man froze mid-stride as though listening. Gauis reached out an arm to halt Lissa. His hand brushed her shoulder, her hair tickling his fingertips. On his other side, Panne stilled without prompting, her nose lifted to the air.

"Man-spawn," she hissed, her eyes narrowed and trained ahead of them.

Gauis withheld the comeback itching in his throat: she did realize she was three man-spawn herself, didn't she? Up ahead Stahl edged forward. As soon as the man's hand raised and batted the air to his right, they shot to aside and off the dirt road they'd been following.

Grabbing Lissa's hand, Gauis darted into the thick brush bordering the dirt road they'd been following. He tugged her down and she fell to her knees next to him, her shoulder bumping his. Panne settled in low, crouched but ready. They held their breath. Stahl was nowhere to be seen now; Gauis hoped the man had found cover.

A small troupe of six appeared out of the rising darkness. _How come I didn't hear them? They're makin' enough noise. Crivens._

It was true. The six walked with heavy bootfalls, each one beating the earth. It was a military march. He snorted softly. Only idiots made people march like that. When you're tired, you clomp around and give away your position.

Unless they didn't expect to encounter anyone out here.

His eyes caught on the swords worn by three of the men: silver inlaid handles and broad blades. Their shoulders were thick with muscle under their tunics. It reminded him he still wore the borrowed tunic, the collar itching where it rubbed against the back of his neck.

Despite their stomping feet, the soldiers moved like they knew how to use the swords strapped to their belts. Unease sat heavy in Gauis' stomach as he watched. He kept his hand on Lissa's arm, reassuring himself that she was staying still and quiet beside him.

Two of the other men were snipers. Their longbows were strung over their shoulders and their quivers hung strapped at their hips, thwacking their thighs as they marched. The last man, swaggering at the rear of the small column, carried a two-handed axe.

"They are well-equipped," Panne breathed from his right.

Gauis raised his free hand to his lips without looking over. He doubted any of the men would hear them over the clomping of their own boots, but he didn't want to take any chances. They needed to get back, and quickly. Most of the men back in the fortress had seemed average fighters, no better or worse than those the Shepherds had faced before. These men though...

_What are they doing out here?_ The only conclusion he could come to was they were being kept apart from the others on purpose. A sort of misdirection to trick them, like Gangrel had expected they might try to sneak in and see what he was hiding. The thought made the unease in his stomach swell.

"Why aren't they with the others?"

"I don't know Princess," he said, getting to his feet after the soldiers were far enough away. Scratching his neck, he looked off towards where they'd disappeared.

"We need to get back," Stahl said, appearing behind them.

Gauis nodded, glancing at the man. His face was shadowed, his frown a dark slash. It was strange to see him so serious.

"Agreed, we have little time," Panne added. Her eyes were narrowed and thoughtful. She'd cross her arms, but stood balanced on the balls of her feet and looked ready to bolt in a moment.

"Didn't I just agree with the man Whiskers?" he asked, scrubbing a hand through his hair. "C'mon. We need to cover the miles fast."

The dark made it difficult. The only one with good eyes at night was Panne, and though she took point the rest of them moved slower than he would have liked. He could see decently, having the sharp eyes of a thief no matter he was into decent work now, fighting wars and whatnot. Sometimes he still wondered how he'd got roped into it...

"Gauis?"

He looked over at Lissa, making out the pale shape of her face.

"Yeah Princess?"

"I'm tired," she said, although she kept her voice quiet no one else would have heard her. Well, maybe if Panne had been a little closer she would have.

"Me too."

"Really?"

"Sure," he said with a shrug, forgetting she couldn't see him. "My feet hurt, I actually kinda want a bath, and I'd love to sleep on somethin' softer than this hard ground."

Her silence made him wonder if he'd said too much. Glancing over at her again, he wished the moon would be out a little more so he might actually see her expression.

"What?"

"Nothing," she said quickly. He could hear the sound of her staff tapping the ground as she walked. "I've just never heard you seriously complain about anything – except maybe a lack of cookies around camp."

He groaned at the mention of something sweet, digging through his pockets out of habit. "Thanks for remindin' me. I've got a sugar craving a mile wide right about now. I'm plain out and don't know if I can make it all the way back. You might have to bury me on the side of the road."

The distinct sound of a candy wrapper crinkling broke the quiet of the night. He straightened and moved closer to her.

"Whaddaya got?"

"The peppermint you gave me," she said softly, holding out her hand. "I didn't eat it. I thought I'd save it.. and now I'm glad I did!"

He took it from her, unable to help himself.

"Princess, you are my hero." Unwrapping it quickly, he slipped the candy into his mouth. He'd never tasted anything so good. For a moment he closed his eyes, enjoying the sharp flavour. Taking a deep breath, he glanced behind them.

"We need to keep going?" Lissa suggested.

"You got it Princess. C'mon." Gauis quickened his pace, his step a little livelier now that sugar was running through his veins again. He clapped Stahl on the shoulder as he passed, startling the man. "C'mon Munchies, let's pick up the pace! I wanna make it before sunrise!"

The three of them caught up to Panne, pressing further into the darkness. He knew the faster they went the more likely they were to miss someone approaching, but the urge to hurry overshadowed his good judgment.


	31. Chapter 31

**This is based around one of my fave supports! I'm pretty sure I love most of Tharja's supports... does that make me weird lol?**

**/Zen**

* * *

Gregor scratched at the back of his neck, eyes searching the darkness of night around him. Where was Tharja? He sighed roughly. They hadn't agreed on where to meet, and now he couldn't find her. She always dressed in black, making his search that much more difficult. Anxiety boiled in his stomach, but he stifled it.

"There's no need to growl at me."

He spun, finding Tharja's face in the blackness behind him. Relaxing a little, he flashed her a smile. "Gregor only trying to scare off pesky ghouls of night."

"We might need a few of those," she told him. He heard the fabric of her cloak shift as she sashayed forward. She crooked a slender hand for him to follow her. "This way."

"Gregor's eyes not so good as they once were," he said, reaching for her. His rough fingers collided with her shoulder, and he traced down her arm until he clasped her elbow. In the darkness, the touch felt more intimate. She paused and he thought he felt her shudder, but she didn't tell him off.

Her voice was soft when she muttered: "Let's get this over with."

Tharja walked like she could see in the dark, her small feet nimbly picking her way through the trees as they left the outskirts of the camp. The only sound was the soft brushing of fabric against her skin. Once or twice he narrowly avoided getting a branch to the face and grumbled about it. She either ignored him or stifled a snicker.

Then all at once they came upon a miniature camp. A small fire had been made, just enough to illuminate a circle five feet across. It had been positioned so the light wouldn't be seen from either direction. Hopefully that meant they'd be able to get through this... summoning... without being disturbed.

Tharja knelt next to the fire, three small pouches and two dusty tomes on the ground next to her. She looked up expectantly at him, and he crossed his legs as he sat, propping his elbows on his knees.

"Alright," she said, "I am ready. Whose soul do you wish to summon?"

This was it. "Gregor's brother. His name is Gregor."

Her lips parted and her eyes narrowed. "You have the same name?"

"When he died, Gregor took Gregor's name. Is fitting tribute, no?"

Understanding dawned on Tharja's face, the firelight making it almost look like shock. "Oh, gods. That's why the curses never worked! The brother whose name you took must have died with unfinished business. If he clings to this world, the name would still belong to him."

"And that make spooky magic not work right, yes?"

"A curse won't stick if you don't know the true name of the intended target."

"You want to know Gregor's real name now, yes?" he asked, wetting his lips with his tongue. His mouth felt dry and his heart was beating too fast. They hadn't even started yet and he was acting like school boy with first love. "So you can charm him?"

"Later," she said, shaking her head and frowning. With one hand she dug into a pouch resting against her thigh, dropping something black into the fire which snapped and flickered. Gregor suspected it might have been a batwing and was tempted to ask, but he didn't want to distract her.

Propping a tome open in her lap, she ran a slim finger down the page. "Right now, we need to focus on your brother. Imagine his face… imagine his voice…" She dropped something else into the fire which sparkled and caused the flames to glow blue for a moment. Nowi's toenail clippings? Her voice dropped lower, becoming throaty and sensuous. "Now… talk to him."

Clearing his throat, he said: "Hello? Gregor? Yoo-hoo! Are you hearing?"

Tharja stared into the fire, her eyes glazed over like she was hypnotized by the flames. He felt the hair at the back of his neck – and those that covered his forearms – stand erect. A chill ran through him.

The new voice that came from her sounded too rough and the accent twisted her sweet mouth: "Brother... is that you...?"

"Oy," he said, surprised, "is sounding just like him! Tharja is summoning soul of brother!"

She muttered something, her shoulders stiffening. "My brother..."

"Oh brother," Gregor said around the lump forming in his throat, "I am so sorry you die because of bad thing I did! If you bear grudge, tell me now. I atone for injustice!" He leaned forward to hear the response, putting one hand on the ground to steady himself as he waited. A breeze trickled through the trees around them, causing the fire to flicker, and he felt another chill that had nothing to do with the breeze at all. But he didn't care. This was what he had waited for. He wasn't about to get spooked and let it all be for naught.

"I bear no grudge against you... You did all you could to save me. You must not feel guilty." A thick pause. "I am proud of you."

"Oh, Gregor! I try to save you, but bandits were so many!"

"You must... forgive yourself, brother." Tharja drew in a shuddering breath and exhaled: "Forgive..."

"Oy, G-Gregor..." His throat was tight and he forced himself to swallow tears. Raising a big hand, he pinched the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger, shutting his eyes tight as well. Hearing his brother's voice again... Could he forgive himself? He remembered that day too well. It was a day – a moment – that haunted his nights. But if Gregor could forgive him...

Tharja cleared her throat, rolling her head from side to side as she took a deep breath. Blinking, she looked over at him. She seemed drowsy. "Well? Did you say what you had to say?"

He gripped both of his knees, digging his fingers in. She didn't remember conversation? "Y-yes. All thanks to Tharja," he said, eyes trained on the flames before him. "Gregor's brother was taken by bandits. Gregor had huge hole in heart, but now hole has been filled in. Gregor have no more regrets." He took a great breath, his shoulders slumping as he exhaled. "You can take soul or whatever now."

Silence strung between them. He glanced up and saw her staring at him strangely before her pale cheeks flushed and she turned back to the fire. "I'm... a little tired," she told him. "Perhaps next time."

He forced a smile. "Gregor brings soul next time we meet. You take then, yes?"

"Sure."

Glancing at the fire, his smile faded. His limbs felt weak as a new born lamb's from the shock and relief of finally being able to tell his brother he was sorry. Of being able to hear from him one last time.

"Did you..." he glanced back at her. "Did Tharja want help? Cleaning...?" He gestured with one broad hand at the collection of pouches next to her.

She shook her head, one hand resting on the tome in her lap. Her dark eyes still reflected the firelight, but refused to look up and meet his. "Go on, there are other things I need to do before the night is through."

Gregor rose to his feet and left her there in the fold of the trees. His walk back to camp was uneventful, and he was glad. His mind buzzed, and if there had been any Risen about, he was certain they could have easily done away with him.

That which he had never dreamed would be his had come this night: forgiveness.


	32. Chapter 32

**Thanks for the lovely feedback guys! I am really enjoying this story, and I'm always stoked to hear when someone else likes it too. This chapter is one of my faves ^_^  
**

**I don't think I've asked, but has anyone figured out where I got the title for this from? The first person to PM/review with the answer can have a one shot request from me!**

**/Zen**

**PS - it's really cold here. I'm wearing tights, sweat pants, AND thick socks. In my house. Yeah.**

* * *

When I got to my post, still rubbing the sleep from my eyes, Lon'qu was already there. He stood with his arms crossed, the fading light of day casting shadows across his face and making his eyes appear deeper and his mouth firmer. I stopped a few steps back, taking a moment to admire him.

Warmth coiled in my stomach and I found a smile curling my lips. It was like just being in his presence made everything better. My sleep had been rough, filled with unpleasant dreams of Risen breaking into camp and failure at Gangrel's fortress. Each dream had been dark and overcast, like something evil watched over me all the while. I'd woken feeling disoriented and disconcerted.

The feeling lingered still.

While I remained tired and didn't much want to be on watch, I was glad he'd decided to be here as well. Whatever his reasons. _Perhaps he enjoys my company as much as I enjoy his?_ That I hardly dared hope.

"Are you merely going to stand there?" he asked without turning.

"Just enjoying the view," I quipped, biting my bottom lip to hide my grin as I moved closer to him. He glanced at me from the corner of his eye, keeping his arms crossed.

"Did you sleep well?"

"Not at all."

"It is hard to get rest when you are plagued by dreams." His voice deepened, sending a thrill through me.

"Are you plagued by dreams?" I asked, pretending like the change in tone hadn't affected me at all. I bit my bottom lip and looked up at him, trying to read his expression. His shoulders stiffened and I thought he wouldn't answer, but then he sighed.

"Every night," he began, "I am plagued by a dream. A dream of true events. Of a young girl who lost her life because of me. She was a village girl who lived on the outskirts of town. We became friends despite the fact that I was an impoverished youth from the slums. In time, she began to steal away from her parents to see me. Love flowered between us. But then..." He stopped, his mouth pressed into a firm line and he curled his fists tightly at his sides.

"Go on," I whispered. I wanted him to feel like he could tell me. In all the time we'd spent together I'd focused so much on what I was worried about and what I was feeling that I hadn't considered him. I hadn't considered where his fear – as strong as it was – had come from. Why hadn't I ever asked? I'd pelted him with figs! Teased him. Teased him when his fear had clearly come from something traumatic.

Guilt swirled within me, mixing with the bubbly feeling I had in my gut.

"I'm sorry," he said in that same low voice. "This is... difficult for me. One day we went to the fields to picnic and spend time by the river. The bandits were so fast. So many. I fought them with all I had, but she still... They..." His deep voice cracked and I saw his adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard, squinting off into the darkness.

"I'm so sorry." A pang of sympathy stabbed my heart. I couldn't remember my past, so I didn't know what it was like to have such a memory haunt you. What would it be like to relive something like that every night? No wonder he was afraid of getting close to women.

"From that day on, the presence of a woman has filled me with fear. A woman died because of my failings. I would not let it happen again. And though that day is long past, I relive it every night. So I understand the affliction of dreams. "

Unlike him, I was haunted by the future. By the possibilities of what _might_ happen should I fail.

"Lon'qu..." I stopped. I didn't know how to say what I meant without sounding trite. "I never meant to be insensitive about your fear, I'm sorry."

He turned to me then, one dark eyebrow raised and disappearing into the unruly hair that hung over his forehead. He still had his arms crossed, and I suppose if I hadn't spent as much time as I had with him, I might have been intimidated. He was taller than I, and solidly built. He was an imposing figure, towering over me like he was. Everything about him spoke of lethality. Was it wrong that I found that so attractive?

"Insensitive?"

"I threw figs at you! And I kept elbowing you when we were sparring," I said, shaking my head at myself. Gods, what had I been thinking.

"Heh, yes you did."

I looked at him, squinting at his face and trying to figure out if he'd actually just laughed. He was okay with it? Shouldn't he be upset with me? I'd been flippant about his most serious fear!

Shrugging his shoulders smoothly, he glanced away from me and out into the trees beyond us. They were thick with shadows. A breeze blew through, rustling them so it sounded as though they were whispering amongst themselves.

"I understand what you were trying to do, now," he said. "You were trying to help me."

"Yeah, well... that may not have been the best way to go about it."

"And what would have been?" he asked, looking back at me. The intensity of his gaze surprised me. I had to remind myself to breathe. "To tiptoe around me? To let me run away from you? I don't want to run away. Not from you." He stopped suddenly, like he'd said too much. A bubble formed in my gut, pressing out on my ribs in a way both unsettling and thrilling. I sucked in a breath in an attempt to still my pulse.

"I don't want you to run away either."

We were facing each other now. In the dark it was easier to look at him, like I wasn't as afraid of being caught staring because I couldn't see as much. Just the strong outline of his jaw, a shadow that outlined his nose, and yes, there I could make out the lines of his mouth. Suddenly I was glad of the dark because he wouldn't be able to see my blushing. The wind blew through the trees around us. The rustling of the leaves caused him to glance up, breaking the spell that had held me. I sucked in a breath.

"We should move," I said, clearing my throat and indicating the direction I wanted to go. Staying in one spot too long would make us an easy target if there were more Risen out tonight, and it also increased the likelihood that someone might slip by us. Thoughts spun through my head, but I tried to focus on the task at hand. Now that I knew about his past, I was even less willing to press him. Before I might have made a joke or sidled up to him, now I was afraid of scaring him. Of making him want to run.

Nodding curtly, he moved left and I kept pace with him. I was too aware of how close and yet how far we were as we walked. At one point, while I was glancing into the trees, the back of my hand brushed his. With a jolt I widened the gap between us, blushing fiercely. I hadn't done it on purpose, and didn't want him to think I had. Would he run?

To my surprise, his hand reached out, grabbing a fist full of my cloak and tugging me back towards him. He didn't even look at me, just moved me so I walked as close I'd been before. I held my breath then let it out in a whoosh, hoping he didn't hear. Our hands brushed again, but he didn't move, just kept surveying the darkness. Emotion swelled in my chest.

We kept quiet for most of the remainder of our watch, pacing back and forth, our hands and sometimes our shoulders brushing as we walked. The first couple times my breath caught and my heart stuttered, but as it continued I relaxed. A faint smile played on my lips.

At one point, we passed out from under the gnarled branches of a young tree and I heard a sound. It was faint, like the brushing of long grass along the leather of boot calf. I stopped and he halted next to me.

"What is it?" he breathed.

I held up a hand, searching the dark shadows between the trees. The noise came again, twice. There was someone out there – and not just one but several. I could make out footsteps now. They shuffled a little. _Risen?_

This time, Lon'qu and I brought our blades up at the same time. I thought of using my wind tome which hung from my belt at my side to flush them out, but there might be more than I anticipated.

We split wordlessly, Lon'qu heading right and me going left. A stillness crept over me as I moved through the dark, approaching the trees. My fatigue was forgotten, and my dreams too for the moment. Whoever was out here was going to feel steel.

A branch cracked ahead of me and I heard a low oath. Raising my sword, I gripped the handle tightly. Sucking in a breath to steady myself, I took another silent step forward. No one would be attacking our camp tonight – not if I had anything to say about it.


	33. Chapter 33

**In which Gaius nearly loses his head! And baths - baths for everyone! :D**

**/Zen**

* * *

Gauis nodded for Stahl to take lead again. They were almost back to camp, but now wasn't the time to let their guard down. They'd seen enough footprints and tracks to know there'd been Risen around lately. The last thing they needed was to run into a bunch of those scum as tired as the four of them were. Gauis could see Lissa was barely holding herself up and even Panne was drooping a bit.

Not that the taguel would ever admit it. As long as he kept going, he had a feeling she would too.

Up ahead, Stahl stumbled and something snapped under his boot. He muttered a curse and Gauis rolled his eyes. _If there are any Risen nearby,_ he thought, _we're dead._

He took two more steps, trying not to think of the bed waiting for him in just another hundred or so yards – not to mention the stash of candy he'd left behind – when he found himself face to face with the pointy end of a sword.

"Crivens!" he yelped, hearing Stahl shout out something similar ahead of him.

"Gauis?" Arkelle's eyes were huge as she looked at him over the sword she'd nearly chopped his head off with.

"Yeah, it's me! Crivens, you really needed to sneak up on me like that Bubbles?" he demanded, trying to calm his heart. He was wide awake now, adrenaline humming like a sugar rush through his veins.

"You were slipping into camp."

Gauis looked towards Stahl and saw Lon'qu sheathing his blade. Stahl, for his part, was bent over with one hand on his knees and the other at his throat. Suddenly he was glad it was Arkelle that had got him and not the swordmaster – Lon'qu wasn't someone he'd want coming after him. Especially in the dark.

"We saw footprints," Panne said.

"Yeah," Lissa added, glancing into the trees around them, "we thought maybe there were Risen nearby." She moved up next to Gauis, one hand tentatively resting on his shoulder. He only relaxed when Arkelle finally lowered her sword.

"Yeah put that thing away, will ya Bubbles?" He ran a hand through his red hair and rubbed the back of his neck. He felt Lissa's hand tighten on his shoulder and he shot her a quick smile, letting her know he was fine.

"Sorry," the tactician said, sounding sheepish. "Guess I'm a little jumpy. You guys missed a lot – what are you _wearing_?"

"What, you're questioning my fashion sense now?" he glanced down at the stained tunic he wore and plucked at the corner.

"They do smell," Panne muttered.

"You weren't complaining when it was keepin' you from getting shot at were ya?"

"And well that worked."

"Yeah," Stahl added. "We kind of did end up getting shot at anyway."

"And whose fault was that?" Gauis demanded.

Lissa sighed, dropping her hand from his shoulder. "I don't care whose fault it was. Can I just get a hot bath and a bed? Please?"

"I would not say no to some carrot stew," Panne added, pulling her own tunic over her head. They'd worn the things long enough.

"Yes, food!" Stahl exclaimed, fatigue forgotten as an earth-shaking stomach grumble following his words. He clutched at his gut. Gauis pursed his lips but didn't argue. He'd kill a dozen Risen right this second if it meant he'd get to his tent quicker – and his stash hidden there. _No one better have touched it,_ he thought darkly.

Arkelle laughed. "Well it's good to know you guys are still in one piece. Come on, I'm sure we can get some food rustled up for you."

"And a bath?" Lissa asked, straightening her shoulders and brightening at the thought.

"And a bath."

"I'll stay while you lead them in," Lon'qu said from next to Stahl. His hand sat on his sword hilt, like he was afraid he might lose the thing if he wasn't touching it.

"Well I don't really need to lead them," Arkelle began.

"Someone will have to wake Chrom," the swordmaster said, his voice as deep as the shadows around him.

Gauis opened his mouth to say he could find his own way – he needed to make that pit stop at his tent anyway – but hesitated as he saw the look passing between the two. The slight frown on Arkelle's face, like she wanted to say something else but was holding back. Lon'qu, for his part, looked more focused and intent. But that just could have been the shadows. He was a hard man to read.

Shaking his head, he said: "Yeah, let's tell Blue we're back. We can debrief in the morning, but someone ought to tell him. I'd really like to get some sleep, ya know? It's been a long haul and these three were just whining in my ear the whole way there and back."

"I was not!" Lissa protested.

"Oh," he added, "and the Princess here needs to see Maribelle."

Arkelle's eyes grew wide as she turned to the blonde. "You're hurt?"

"It's nothing, Gauis stitched it up fine."

"He had to _stitch_ you?"

"It's fine," Lissa insisted. "I want the scar."

The tactician shot him a glance that asked _what the heck did you get into? _Gauis shook his head and shrugged. He'd done his piece. If Lissa wanted to keep the scar, she'd have to argue with her brother about it.

He kind of hoped she'd be able to.

Arkelle led the way back to camp and they left Lon'qu standing beneath a scraggly tree, staring into the night. Gauis looked back once, finding it kind of eerie how still the man was. If he'd been the one standing watch, he'd have found a place where he couldn't be easily spotted. He preferred not to make himself a target by standing beneath a tree.

"I'll get the baths going," Lissa announced as soon as the tents came into view. She hurried forward, Panne hot on her heels. Stahl ditched them for the mess tent.

Gauis met Arkelle's gaze with a shrug. They all had their priorities.

"I'll wake Chrom," she said with a smile. "Go do what you have to but don't get lost. We'll have a lot to go over I'm sure."

_You have no idea,_ he thought, hurrying off through the maze of tents, keeping quiet so as not to disturb those still sleeping. First light was creeping through the clouds, but no one would be up for a bit yet.

Gauis found it strange to be slipping back through camp. They hadn't been gone too long, but being out there without the rest of the Shepherds – it was the first time he'd been free of the whole group since he'd joined up. To his surprise, he'd kind of missed them.

Sure they were a rowdy, do-gooder kind of group, but they were good people. Good people to have at your back or beside you when you were backed into a corner. He figured he could do with people like that, if only because he didn't like getting backed into corners. And he generally liked to be on the winning side of things like wars.

Slipping under the flap of his tent – he shared it with Stahl, although the man had little in the way of stuff – he slipped a chain from around his neck and knelt before a chest. It was old and it wasn't that big – just enough room for a change of clothes and the most precious things he owned.

Unlocking the chest, he threw back the lid and took a deep breath. His stomach rumbled. Quickly, he pulled the ruined tunic over his head and tossed it aside. He'd kept his own clothes underneath and now restocked all of his pockets with the candy he'd kept within the chest. Lollipops, peppermints, toffees and sugar canes.

He stuck a lollipop into his mouth and straightened. He felt a hundred times better with sugar back in his system. He kicked the chest lid back down, locking it and rethreading the chain over his neck. Now he was ready to face the big man and spill the beans.

_Then a bath and a nap_, he though, grinning around the lollipop in his mouth.


	34. Chapter 34

**Pretty sure I forgot to update Friday, so two chapters for you awesome people! Also, thanks for all the love given to the _You Belong with Me_ one-shot! Blew me away lol.**

**/Zen**

* * *

I moved quickly through camp, blood pounding in my ears in tempo with my feet smacking the ground. They were back. The stale feeling that had settled over camp would finally be lifted and I'd have something to do. We could start planning and finally get this war over with.

I stood in front of Chrom's tent before I had time to think about what I was about to do. Pausing, I wondered if I should just go in or call out. My mouth suddenly dry, I cleared my throat. The thought of walking in while he slept made me nervous. Definitely should call out.

"Chrom?" My voice sounded hoarse to my own ears, like I'd been yelling. I cleared my throat again and tried once more, listening for any movement within. Silence greeted me.

I stood in the dark, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. It felt invasive to simply slip into his tent. He was sleeping – it was one thing to go in during the day, but now? Frustration crept over me. I was a light sleeper, as were many of the other Shepherds. How was he so lucky to get deep sleep?

There was nothing for it. I sucked in a breath and slipped between the heavy canvas. Blinking as my eyes adjusted, I glanced over the tent and made out the shape of him beneath his blankets. One arm was stretched out above his head, the hand curled into a fist. His mouth hung open slightly, although he wasn't snoring, and his hair fell gently over his forehead.

"Chrom?"

He frowned slightly but didn't wake. Seriously?

Stifling a sigh, I crept closer. At his side, I knelt and reached out tentatively. I aimed for his shoulder – a relatively safe spot I thought – and realized as my hand met bare flesh that he was shirtless. Embarrassment flooded me at the exact moment he woke. His eyes shot open and he sat up, flying at me with such speed that I fell back onto my butt with the stupidest sounding squeak of surprise.

He pinned me back, his hands gripping my wrists and his knees hitting the ground on either side of my hips. The blanket fell over my legs, a thin veil between us, even as his weight pressed me down. I looked up at him in surprise, me his eyes, and realized he didn't know me. For the moment, sleep still held him and he wasn't seeing me. His blue gaze was murderous and his grip on my wrists was borderline painful.

With a grunt, I wedged my foot up between us and kicked him in the stomach, jerking my arms free at the same time. I didn't kick hard – just enough to boot him off me. He fell back and I rolled backwards, getting my feet beneath me. How long would it take him to wake up and realize where he was?

I hovered, ready to fend him off, but he raised a hand to his head as he sat up. A soft groan came from him as he sat there, hunched over.

"Chrom?" I asked hesitantly.

"Arkelle?" He looked up at me, blinking like he was trying to figure out what I was doing in his tent.

"Well at least you're awake now," I said, lowering my hands to my side. "You have great reflexes. I don't think anyone will ever be able to sneak up on you in your sleep," I added dryly.

He looked at his bedroll and at the blanket bunched up at my feet. "Oh. Did I..."

"You kind of sleep-attacked me," I said, amused now that it was over. I bent, offering him a hand up which he took. As he stood, I found it almost impossible to ignore his bare chest. I mean, I knew he was well built but seeing it was something else.

"What's going on? More Risen?"

"Nothing so unpleasant. Gauis and the others are back, although they nearly got impaled doing so. Lon'qu and I thought they were Risen," I explained.

"Lissa's back?" He turned, heading for the flap.

"Um, you might want to put a few more clothes on before going out," I said. I'd been trying not to look, but he was only wearing his small clothes and that left a _lot_ of skin. I was glad it was dark in the tent – it meant I couldn't see much detail and also that he couldn't see me blushing.

"Oh, yes," he said, looking down at himself. He seemed torn at asking me to step out – it seemed pointless now since I'd already seen this much and there was the time he'd walked in on me in the bath – but I took the hint.

"I'll wait outside," I told him, stepping out. I let the night air cool my cheeks and when he stepped out in breeches and a tunic I was ready to go. I hoped Gauis would be ready as well. I knew all four of our scouts were tired, but some things had to take priority. Of course, that was up to Chrom – and he was clearly not letting anything stopping him from making sure his sister was okay.

I smiled as I hurried to keep up with his long strides. He'd let Lissa go, but he clearly couldn't wait to see her now that she was back. What must it be like to have siblings? A pang squeezed my heart as I remembered Emm's jump. What must it be like to have lost one?

"Where are they?" Chrom asked, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"Stahl's at the mess tent, but everyone else was heading for the baths."

"That's where I'd go," he said with a chuckle.

We stopped in front of the bath tent, both of us hesitating. Was he remembering the time he'd walked in on me? I was trying not to.

"Did you want me to check and make sure they're decent?" I asked.

"We're still decent!" Came Lissa's voice from within.

"Yeah, ain't nobody stripped yet Bubbles," Gauis added.

"Gauis?" Chrom asked as he stepped into the tent. "Why are you in here with them?"

I followed, not sure whether I should be frowning or grinning. The warmth and humidity hit me and I saw they'd started the cauldrons boiling for the baths.

Gauis stood, a lollipop hanging out of the corner of his mouth and the stained tunic gone. Panne was piling her hair and ears on top of her head. She'd already taken her greaves off; they lay next to Lissa's staff on the ground.

"Look Blue," the red head said, taking the lollipop out and pointing it at Chrom, "if you think I'm gonna be in the other tent boiling my own water when I could just get some of this stuff here, you got another thing coming. We been hiking all night and we got chased all day – "

"I thought you weren't supposed to be seen?" Chrom interrupted, drawing his shoulders back. "You were supposed to _scout_ not be engaged."

"We tried," Lissa interrupted, pulling out her pigtails and running her fingers through her hair with a grimace. "They were everywhere. But Gauis did so well, you should have seen him."

Gauis waved her compliments aside. "No need to go into details just yet Princess. Can't we have our baths first? Debrief after?"

I moved further into the tent, touching Chrom's shoulder. When he glanced at me I said: "They're exhausted. We should probably let them rest; I just wanted you to know they were here."

He frowned at me but sighed. Looking back at them he said: "A bath and a couple hours rest. Before noon I will need your report."

"Fine by me," Gauis said, stripping off his gloves. The water was ready for the baths, and he looked like he was ready to drop.

"I'm glad your back," Chrom said, scooping Lissa up into a hug. She giggled then winced. I remembered she'd mentioned something about stitches. Chrom noticed as well and frowned, setting her down. "What is it?"

"Not much," she said, trying to brush it off. Off to the side, Gauis had stilled and stood ready with his hands at his side and his feet apart. "It's nothing really."

Chrom wasn't taking that. He turned Lissa gently with a hand, zeroing in on her shoulder. I heard him suck in a breath.

"It was just a rock," she told him quickly, turning back and looking up at him. "It hardly hurts anymore. Gauis stitched it up for me. Don't be mad at him," she added with a worried frown.

I think everyone held their breath for a second, but Chrom just said: "Did you want Maribelle to look at it after?"

Lissa grinned. "No, I want to keep it!"

"To keep it?"

"I'm going to have a scar – isn't it great?"

I laughed softly and backed out of the tent to wait for Chrom. I was glad the Shepherds were whole again. Now the hard stuff lay ahead: Gangrel's fortress. With everyone back and Lon'qu having confided in me earlier... I thought maybe I could get everyone through this afterall.


	35. Chapter 35

**Have I mentioned I love Ricken?**

**/Zen**

* * *

Tharja rose at what she considered to be an ungodly hour. She'd been up into the wee hours of the morning. After calling on Gregor's brother, she could not put her mind at ease. Rather than dwell on it, she spent the rest of the night weaving wards for almost all the Shepherds she thought might need it.

She'd heard the scouts come back and knew the camp would be a flurry of activity. Arkelle would be focused on their plan of attack with Chrom and the others. Cordelia would make sure their already pristine weapons were ready to skewer their enemies.

Snorting softly, Tharja flopped over in her bed roll. Her black hair splayed out across her face and the lone pillow embroidered with a twisting gold thread. She groaned at the light, but sat up.

_It's my own fault for staying up so late,_ she scolded herself. She could have gone to sleep after doing as she'd promised for Gregor – no one had asked her to make wards for the others. Of course, those wards would be worth themselves in the fight with Gangrel. The one she'd created for Arkelle she was particularly proud of. Should any mage try to attack the tactician, he – or she – would die a most gruesome death.

"Oi! Tharja is awake, yes?"

Groaning, she hauled herself to her feet and moved to the tent flap. One thing about being a dark mage, she got a tent to herself. No one wanted to risk getting hexed in their sleep. Little did they know if she really wanted to hex them, they didn't have to be next to her.

"What do you want?" She poked her head out of the tent and came face to face with Gregor. They were so close their noses brushed and she jerked back, feeling a hot flush radiate over her pale skin. The red-haired mercenary grinned.

"Ah, good morning evil girl. If wanting kiss Tharja only need to be asking."

"It's too early to be taking souls," she told him, ignoring his comment and intending to leave it at that.

"Souls can be waiting," he said, "but tactical meetings we must be getting to, yes?"

Tharja straightened and turned back to him. "Arkelle called the meeting?"

"Is debrief only, do not look so excited!" he teased, laughing. "But yes. Get some breakfast then come. Gregor will save you seat... and a kiss." He winked at her then headed off.

"Well I..." Tharja snorted and crossed her arms stiffly, glaring at his retreating back. She was tempted to skip breakfast, but her stomach grumbled a reminder that she hadn't eaten since lunch the day before. Rolling her eyes, she ducked back into her tent for her cloak , a tome, and her notebook. Moving quickly through the tents she came upon a rather noisy breakfast at the mess tent.

Stahl sat on top of one of the tables, his arm full of apples and cheese and a few thick slices of bread. Sully, Basilio, Vaike, and a few others gathered around – sitting on the benches as civilized people ought to. They listened with rapt attention as he spoke of dodging arrows.

"Aren't you supposed to save that for the debrief?" Tharja asked dryly as she slipped into the tent. She selected a bruised apply and a biscuit for herself. Miriel offered her a cup of cider, but she declined. She'd learned early on Miriel was as likely to try a new concoction on her as she was to try out a new curse on an unsuspecting victim. She filled a clean mug with water from a barrel at the side of the tent.

"Oh, yeah!" Stahl said, hopping off the table. "And it – oh good gods! That's going on now isn't it? The debrief?"

Basilio's laugh boomed over them and he grinned above the rim of his mug. "It is indeed. You should maybe get going, hm?"

Stahl took off, nearly dropping an apple in the process, but he managed to keep it all. The others laughed, Basilio standing to follow albeit at a slower, swaggering pace. Tharja followed the two of them, leaving the chatter of the mess tent behind. She bit into her apple and nearly spewed the pieces when a hand grabbed her sleeve.

"Say, Tharja-"

"Snake spines!" she exclaimed, gripping her apple so tightly her nails bit into the red flesh. She rounded on Ricken, who dropped his hand from her sleeve. "What do you want child?"

The red-headed mage flushed, but he didn't back down. "I was just um... you know... hoping you could maybe teach me how to cast a curse?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Did someone steal your favourite toy or something?"

"Oh jeepers, no," he laughed, like she'd been trying to tell a joke. "I just want to learn new skills. What with the scouts back and all, I want to make sure I'm as prepared as I can be when we get to Gangrel's fortress."

"Curses and hexes are no simple matter," she sniffed. She let her eyes roam over his oversized hat, his narrow frame, the hands that anxiously clutched a tome to his chest. "But perhaps you possess the talent."

"Oh, I do!" he assured her quickly, his hat flopping back and forth as he bounced on his heels. "I'm sure I do. So you'll teach me then?"

"No."

"What? Oh, come on! I need to be able to defend myself-"

"Casting hexes is not a hobby to be picked up on a whim, and it cannot be learned in a day."

"I know," he said, nodding and causing his hat to nearly flop right off his head. "This is serious business. Super-serious deadly business! I'm trying to get as strong as possible so I can be a key part of Chrom's army. I'm learning the sword with Lon'qu and Arkelle has been helping with my tomes. I even took up studying wyvern riding and butter sculpting! You know, just in case," he added as he flushed clear up to his ears.

Tharja shook her head. She could feel her lack of sleep pulling at her eyelids, but refused to give in. Unfortunately it wasn't doing much good for her patience or temper. "Hexes and curses are a different animal," she told him sharply. "A wild, untameable beast. Now forget we had this conversation and go... practice your butter sculpting."

He frowned and looked like he was about to pout. Tharja turned on her heel so she wouldn't have to see that lip tremble. It might make her take back what she said – and she wasn't about to be doing anyone else in this camp any more favours. He already had a fabulously dark ward guarding him. What more did the boy want?

Of course, if he actually knew about the ward maybe that would change things. _No,_ she though, _then he would just want to know how to make his own wards._

"Do not be so harsh on the boy," Gregor said, appearing at her elbow.

"How do you do that?" she snapped, glaring at him.

He took the tome and journal from the crook of her arm where they'd been about to slip free. She wasn't as good as Stahl at balancing so many things in her arms. She let him do it but sniffed. The red-headed oaf had the gall to chuckle.

"Gregor can be chivalrous when time calls for it."

"Chivalrous?" she snorted.

"Yes, remember time Gregor stepping in to block you from enemy sword in battle?" he asked, raising his eyebrows at her. His eyes twinkled amusement.

"I do not recall asking you to do any such thing."

"Pretty ladies will never have to ask," he promised. Then, his voice deepening, he added: "Evil girl especially never have to ask."

Tharja avoided looking at him and, to prevent herself from answering, she took a big bite of the apple in her hand, juice dampening her fingers. It was sweet – kind of like the big oaf beside her.


	36. Chapter 36

**I really enjoyed writing the bickering in this chapter lol. I think the Shepherds are just so awesome... **

**/Zen**

* * *

Gauis shook his red hair out of his eyes. Even with the leather band tied tight, his hair dangled almost to his nose. Grumbling, he licked pie crumbs from his fingers. He'd have to remember to thank Sumia for the snack. How the girl new he'd be around and have a sweet tooth a mile long, he couldn't say. But he wasn't about to complain.

"Hey Gauis."

"Hey Princess," he said with an easy smile. The tension that came from being responsible for a group of people was gone from him and he felt relaxed, if tired. How did Chrom do it all the time?

She opened her mouth wide with a yawn, lifting a hand to stifle it.

He chuckled. "A little wider and I might be able to see clear down to your toes."

"I only got a couple hours in," she said, blushing. "I feel like I could sleep for _ages_."

"You'll be able to get more sleep after this, I promise," Chrom said. He stepped through the tent flaps, glancing at both of them.

Gauis nodded in greeting. He hadn't seen the prince for a while, and part of him had expected the man to change. But here he was. Shiny as a new penny and still too much of a goody-two-shoes to run away from this fight.

"How's your shoulder?" Chrom asked, directing his question at his sister. Gauis flinched and looked away. Speaking of responsible...

"Right as rain," Lissa replied. She moved further into the tent and took a seat next to Gauis. He tried not to think about it too much and hoped Chrom didn't either. They'd spent a lot of time together, and she'd nearly died – things like that changed the way you looked at one another. _Crivens,_ he thought, _maybe I shoulda high-tailed it out of here back when I had the chance._

Too late now.

Panne entered with Flavia on her heels. The taguel looked like the lack of sleep and long day they'd had yesterday hadn't even happened.

"Bright eyed and bushy tailed, eh Whiskers?" he teased.

"Don't you have a sweet to stuff in your mouth?" she replied without pausing to glance at him.

He was about to retort, ignoring Lissa's giggles beside him, when Stahl burst into the tent. Basilio followed closely behind him, towering above everyone in the tent.

"Oh good! You haven't started yet." Stahl abruptly took a seat, shaking his hair out of his eyes and biting into one of the apples he had in his arms.

"Did you have to bring your breakfast with you?" Chrom asked, a solitary eyebrow raised in amusement. The other man shrugged, and Basilio laughed, moving around the table to stand with Chrom. Shortly after Gregor slipped into the tent, quiet on his feet for someone his size. Tharja followed at his elbow, looking none too pleased about it. Gauis wondered what she was doing here – she didn't have a lot to offer tactically.

"Oh, is everyone here already?"

As Arkelle stepped through, Gauis suddenly understood. The dark mage was here to listen to her, of course. He shuddered, wondering what interest she really held in the tactician.

"Arkelle looks so pretty, don't you think?" Lissa whispered, leaning into him.

Gauis glanced at Chrom instinctively, but the prince's attention was elsewhere. He turned back to the tactician, taking in her pale face, the dark circles under her eyes, and the firm way she held herself.

"Looks like Bubbles has been workin' hard," he said under his breath. "Not really my type though."

The princess scrunched up her nose and stuck her tongue out at him, to which he only smirked.

"I think she's pretty. Do you think Chrom thinks so?"

"I don't think we should be talking about this, Princess. At least not where your brother can hear us."

"What is with all this whispering?" Gregor asked out of the corner of his mouth. He wasn't looking at them, but Gauis could see the twinkle in the mercenary's eyes.

"Do you think Arkelle is pretty?" Lissa asked him.

Gauis rolled his eyes. Gods, the girl was persistent. What did it matter if she was or wasn't? What really mattered was whether or not the woman could keep them from getting slaughtered.

"Hm." Gregor scratched at his chin, seeming to seriously consider the question. Then he glanced at Tharja. "What you think? You think Arkelle pretty?"

The dark mage turned scarlet and became very busy with the book she held in her lap, searching for something in the tiny lines of text.

"If you're all done whispering like a bunch of school children," Chrom said, "we have much to discuss." The prince leaned forward over the table, his hands planted on the maps and scrolls spread flat over the smooth surface. His dark blue eyes studied each of them in turn – just long enough they each felt the intensity. Gauis straightened instinctively under that gaze. He fought the urge to stand straighter, but the prince had that affect on him. One look and he suddenly wanted to be more, be better, and be worthy.

_I'm a thief,_ he told himself, but he didn't move to slouch.

"We have three days," Chrom said. "Three days to plan, move, and attack. Gangrel knows you were there?" He directed that last at Gauis.

Clearing his throat, the red head said: "Don't see how he couldn't. He was pretty much chasing us most of the way back."

"We lost those fools," Panne said, raising her chin and shaking her dark hair back from her face.

"Lost them yeah," Gauis nodded, "but they know they weren't chasing ghosts. There were a lot of soldiers," he added to Chrom, "and most of them didn't look like they'd be much of a pain, but we saw a few others I think might cause a problem. It's just a thought but..."

"Trust your instincts," Arkelle said. She stood with her arms crossed and feet planted firmly in the dirt. A small crease had appeared between her eyebrows. "You have instincts for a reason, and I want you to trust them. If you had a feeling, I want to know about it."

"But start at the beginning," Chrom interjected. "We've gotten bits and pieces. I need the whole story."

So Gauis told them about the fortress. How it lay nestled against a hill with thick woods on two sides. He mentioned the stream and the barracks and the sleepy guards. Lissa popped in with what she'd seen at the stable and Stahl reported on what they'd seen afield. For the duration of the telling, no one else spoke except when Arkelle or Chrom needed to ask a question. When he stopped, Gauis found his throat dry and his tongue was as parchment in his mouth.

Gregor handed him a flask and he took a swig, raising an eyebrow as it burned a path down to his stomach.

"And this feeling you had?" Arkelle asked, brushing a stray bit of hair from her face.

Gauis hesitated, trying to line his thoughts up before he said anything. "On the way back we crossed a small patrol, only I don't think that's what it was. The soldiers we saw looked more practiced and were way better armed than those we'd seen inside the fortress. Seemed strange for them to be out in the middle of the night like that, especially considerin' they didn't look like a regular patrol."

"It could be Gangrel is trying to hide his stronger forces from us," Arkelle said with a frown. She looked over at Chrom. "If he suspected we might come to check out his hold, he might try to send them afield and keep them away from us."

"Thinking he might surprise us with them?" Chrom sighed, glancing down at the maps in front of him again.

"It's not a popular strategy," Basilio said with a shrug of his powerful shoulders, "but it has been done. And if they hadn't crossed paths with our scouts, we'd never have been the wiser hm?"

"Risky to leave your fort poorly defended," Flavia added, pointing at the map. "What would he do if we suddenly decided to attack? What if his stronger forces were too far away?"

"Good for us, I say," Basilio grinned.

Arkelle shook her head. "They must have some kind of signal, or maybe the patrols are told to stay close. He wouldn't want them wandering too far off."

"They could be using a mage."

Everyone turned to look at Tharja. The black-haired woman stared flatly back. "There is a relatively basic spell that could be used to send a message to a specified person. It would," she added, "require a... willing soul."

Gauis shuddered and noticed Gregor's shoulders stiffen at the same time. He didn't like magic much, but he really didn't like dark magic. The whole using souls and collecting bat guts or whatever it was they did... he wasn't interested, no sir.

"We already figured they've got themselves a rather deft mage," Arkelle said after a minute. "We can't rule out their possibly being able to communicate like that."

"What do you mean?" Stahl asked. He'd finally finished all the food he'd brought with him and, with his hands settled over his stomach, lay reclined against a barrel.

"There was a wyn storm while you four were gone," Chrom explained. "We nearly lost the supply tent."

"And that," Gauis said, raising a gloved finger, "is why I keep my emergency supplies in my own tent."

"Emergency supplies?" Lissa asked, her wide blue eyes questioning.

He grinned at her. "Even more valuable than you think. It's where I keep my stash."

"His candy," Panne said from across the tent.

"Hey, don't go giving my secrets away!"

"Trust me, it's no secret..." The taguel shot back.


	37. Chapter 37

**Thanks for still reading this guys! For those of you who have noticed, I did cut back the thrice a week updates to twice. It's just way too crazy these days lol.**

**Enjoy, Zen**

* * *

I watched as the others filed out of the tent, waiting until it was just me and Chrom before sighing. Lifting a hand to my head, I tried to smooth back the ache in my temples with my fingertips.

"Is it bothering you again?"

I looked up, meeting Chrom's dark blue eyes. His brows were pinched in concern, but he made no move towards me. I wished Lon'qu had been in on the meeting, but when I'd gone to find him... he hadn't been anywhere. His presence would've been a comfort.

"I'm okay," I said, lowering my hand. He didn't look like he believed me, but there wasn't anything he could do so I didn't see a point in dwelling on it. Sometimes it was a little ache, sometimes a sharper pain. Most of the time I shook it off. Or tried to.

He took a deep breath, staring down at the map of Gangrel's fortress. With the intel from Gauis and the others we'd made notations regarding sentries and patrols. Little splashes of ink spotted the page in our haste.

"Those random patrols bother me," I told him, frowning at the map. "I agree with Gauis. It seems like Gangrel is hiding his stronger forces. I wouldn't be surprised if he lets us get close and then calls them in to cut us off."

He nodded, tapping the parchment with a finger and duplicating my frown. "I wonder what else he has in mind. I want us to be prepared, but a part of me..." he hesitated and glanced at me. I was surprised by the fury I saw in his eyes. "Part of me wants to go now. Rush him and kill him and be done with all of this."

"Chrom..."

"I know," he said, standing up straight and squaring his shoulders. "I won't, but I want to. The gods help me... I want to."

I stood there feeling like I ought to do or say something. My first instinct was to reach out to him, but I was unsure. Yeah, we'd said friends but if I reached out now would that change what I felt was a tenuous understanding? I worried about that.

Taking a good look at him, at the tenseness in his shoulders and the emotion in his face, I realized I was worried more about him. So I took that step, the one separating us, and reached out to him. My hand rested lightly on his bicep and he turned, his dark eyes bright with pain and anger that had yet to fade. Would it? Would his anger against Gangrel fade when the war was over or would it linger and taint the rest of his life?

"It's my fault," he said, his voice rasping as he strained to speak. "You know that don't you? My fault Emm is gone."

"Chrom, you can't blame yourself..."

He curled his hands into fists at his side, still not looking at me. "I've tried to tell myself that. I've tried. But I still see her face – " he cut himself off and I saw his adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard.

"The pain will fade," I told him quietly. I felt it was what I should say, but I realized I was out of my depth. What did I know of this kind of guilt? This kind of pain? I didn't know who I was, or what was in my past. My guilt came from fear of the mistakes I _might_ make. I didn't know what it was like to be unable to save someone or have them die because I could do nothing.

I didn't want to know.

"Will it?" he whispered, glancing at me again. It was hard to hold his gaze, but I did.

"It will," I told him firmly. I didn't let any of that uncertainty colour my voice. He needed my strength and I could give him that at least.

He took a deep breath and shook his head slightly. "I suppose you're right." He forced a smile and moved so that I dropped my hand. "Thank you. I should let you go... I'm sure you have a lot of work ahead of you."

I hesitated, certain he was just saying this so I wouldn't worry. But what could I do? If he wanted me to leave him be... I would respect that.

"Yes," I said. "I want to check on a few things, but I think I already know what we should be doing when we go."

He nodded. "I trust your judgment."

I left him then, feeling unsettled. Outside, I glanced back at his tent and frowned. Was it just me, or had he been trying to get rid of me? Why did that bother me so much?

Shaking my head, I strode away from the tent intent on heading to my own. I did have other things to deal with. In my head I was already considering the books I wanted to consult. If we were going to be launching our attack in three days, I had to make sure I made the best decision possible. Like I'd told Chrom, I was pretty sure I already knew which route I wanted to take – but I didn't want to be hasty.

I wanted to keep my promise to Ricken and get as many of us through this alive as possible. A cold lump formed in my stomach at the thought I might fail.

_I won't._

"Won't what?"

With a jolt I turned and saw Tharja standing there. Her dark hair framed her face and her eyes were narrowed at me, examining. She wrapped her arms in her cloak and pulled it tighter about her body.

"Huh?"

"You said 'I won't'," she said, moving closer to me.

"Oh." I hadn't meant to say that out loud.

"If you're worried about failing," the sorceress said in a sultry voice that I couldn't quite tell if it was meant to be comforting or just creepy, "you won't. I know how hard you work."

"You would, wouldn't you," I said with my eyebrows raised. "You're like my shadow."

She smiled at me in a way that gave me chills.

"I try," she said, raising her chin a fraction. "But I actually had something I thought you ought to know... I considered keeping it to myself, but after today's meeting..."

"What is it?" I asked, intrigued now. Tharja could be strange, but she was an incredible sorceress.

She looked aside. "I... cast wards on the majority of the Shepherds. You might want to keep that in mind when you arrange us."

"Wards?"

"Just a little dark magic. It's a reflexive hex," she added, looking back at me with an evil little smile curling her mouth. "If someone should try cursing us, well, let's just say they will die a very unpleasant death. Very unpleasant indeed..."

"Tharja I'm not sure if I should hug you or run away screaming," I said with half a laugh.

"I'm sure we could come to some arrangement," she said, raising a hand towards me. "A lock of your hair maybe...?"

"No," Gregor said, appearing at her side and catching her wrist. "There will be no hair taking today, Arkelle has much work to be doing, yes?"

"Always," I told him, still somewhat stunned. Whatever she wanted my hair for... well it probably wasn't a wholesome reason. Then again, she _had_ just admitted to casting wards over most of the Shepherds.

"See?" the redhaired mercenary said, looking down at Tharja who glared up at him. "She has many things. She cannot be giving hair right now."

"I just wanted to see her dreams," the dark haired woman sniffed, jerking her hand free.

He grinned. "If is dreams evil girl wants to be seeing, Gregor has something for that..."

Shaking my head I left the two of the bickering. I did have other things to be doing, and I didn't want to be roped into any more drinks with Gregor. I also didn't feel like giving up hair or my soul or anything.

_What about your heart?_

The thought came unbidden to my mind and made me pause. I'd given all of myself to the Shepherds... but was I ready to give up my heart? And if I did give it... how would it be received? I was surprised to find the feeling that came with the thought of rejection was painfully similar to the one which came over me when I thought of failing everyone in battle.

_Love is a battlefield, _ I thought grimly before entering my tent. Too bad there wasn't anything in my texts that would help me in that fight.


	38. Chapter 38

**I totally did not miss posting this yesterday... nope of course not haha. Enjoy some Chrom!**

**/Zen**

* * *

Chrom ran a hand through his hair. With Arkelle gone from the tent, he sunk down into his chair and exhaled heavily. He stared at the map without really seeing it. Black smudges of ink on his hands went unnoticed as well.

His arm tingled slightly from where she'd touched him, and he reached over with his opposite hand. Resting his fingertips over the spot, he was glad he'd sent her out.

He felt so many conflicting emotions right now. He wanted to kill Gangrel and avenge Emm. He wanted to scoop Arkelle up in his arms and take her away from here. The memory of their almost-kiss the day of the storm haunted him. He wanted to take her so far away they never had to think about war or Ylisse ever again. But he couldn't do that.

From a very young age he'd been taught he couln't run away from responsibility. Ylisse was his to oversee, and this was his war. Emm was his to avenge.

And he _would_ avenge her.

He curled his hand into a fist over the arm of the chair and clenched his jaw. Yes, that much he could do, and he'd do his best to rule in a way she'd see fit. He knew she hadn't condoned violence, but sometimes there was no other way. Maybe if he was a better person, if he'd been more like her, maybe then he could see another way.

Right now, he wanted Gangrel's head on a platter. Or a stake, whichever was more convenient.

"Brother?"

He looked up and saw Lissa peeking through his tent flaps.

"Lissa, is everything alright?"

"I was going to ask you that," she said, stepping through. She tiptoed into the tent like she was stepping on eggshells.

"I'm fine," he told her, forcing a smile. She frowned.

"You can try to tell me that, but I'm not stupid. I'm actually pretty smart you know, even if I'm not very good at being a lady."

He laughed softly. "I know you're smart, and you will be a fine lady one day."

She wrinkled her nose and moved around the table, leaning back against it with her hands folded in front of her. She looked almost shy, but glanced up and met his eyes with a strength that surprised him. She'd grown up in the time she'd been gone.

"You can tell me what's wrong you know," she said. "I know that technically you're the one that will rule in place of Emm, but you'll need me. I want to help you."

"I don't want to burden you with-"

"You don't get to decide that," she said, cutting him off. Her blue eyes held an edge he wasn't used to. "You can't decide to protect me all the time. I'm going to get hurt," she added, reaching up to touch her shoulder, "and I'm going to worry just like you. But I can make it through. I'm made of stronger stuff than you might think, and I don't want you to do this all by yourself."

He reached out and took her hand, squeezing gently. "I know, I'm sorry. I do want to protect you – I want to keep you safe so that- "

"So that what happened to Emm won't happen to me?"

"That," he agreed, "and so that at least one of us is okay. But I know I won't be doing this all by myself. I have you and Arkelle and Sully and all the other Shepherds. I've got Frederick breathing down my neck," he added with a wink.

She giggled and he smiled back, relieved to see some of the seriousness gone from her face.

"We are lucky to have Arkelle," she said, "don't you think? Aren't you glad we found her?"

"Of course I am."

She looked at him slyly out the corner of her eyes. "Do you like her?"

Chrom couldn't hide his surprise. Had he been that obvious? He answered slowly, choosing his words. "I don't think that it's a good idea to –"

"You do!" she crowed, dancing on her toes and grinning. Her blonde hair bounced, brushing her rosy cheeks.

"Lissa!"

"I can tell! I can see it in your eyes."

"Lissa," he said again, waiting for her to calm down. "I like Arkelle, but... it's not like that. She is my tactician –"

His sister rolled her eyes. "That doesn't really matter."

"Nor to me, but it's also that... I believe she is not interested. And the battlefield isn't the right place for such things as declarations of love or marriage... It has little place here."

"This is where it has the most place!" she cried. "This is where you need to be reminded that you are surrounded by family and people that love you. You're the prince of Ylisse – how can she not be interested? Are you sure?"

"Lissa... trust me I am sure," he said, softening it with a smile. _If she had wanted me, she wouldn't have looked so frightened the day of the storm._ "And it is a good thing to have family around you and people you care about, but it is hard to remember you might lose any of them at any given moment. Out here... we're at war. Each battle brings us closer to the end, but it could easily be our end as well. Would you want to lose someone you just confessed to loving?"

"But if we don't know how much time we have left," she said quietly, "shouldn't you want to be honest? Shouldn't you want to tell the truth?"

He shrugged, sinking back into his chair. He suddenly felt very tired. "I don't know. I only know there are too many other things that need my attention. Right now... I need to focus on the fight with Gangrel. Maybe after that I can think about affairs of the heart."

She pouted for a minute then sighed. "I suppose you are right."

"Of course I am, I'm the older brother."

"Oh that doesn't mean a thing," she said, laughing.

"Does so."

"Does not!"

He smiled at her. "How's your shoulder by the way?"

"Totally fine. I don't know why you keep asking, it was just a little cut," she said. "And Gauis stitched me up good as new."

"Yes, he does have surprising talents doesn't he?"

She nodded, smiling absently. He raised an eyebrow, but she didn't seem to notice. Whatever she was thinking about, it had her full attention. A thief, hm? Chrom made a mental note to talk to Gauis and try to see what else he could find out about the candy-lover.

As for Arkelle... he valued her too much to press something she clearly did not want. They worked so well together and she had proven herself time and again. He trusted her, and if she was going to trust him they needed to stay friends. If her feelings changed... if they changed, he would be there with open arms.


	39. Chapter 39

**Only a couple days til Christmas! :D **

**Now guys, if you remember, Gregor interrupted Tharja making a move on Arkelle hmm? Well she's not too happy about it. Hehe.**

**/Zen**

* * *

"Oy, where is evil girl going?" Gregor asked as Tharja jerked free of his grasp. He frowned, watching as she pivoted on a heel to glare up at him.

"Away from you," she snapped. There was a flush high in her pale cheeks that only made her dark eyes stand out more.

"Tharja – "

"You're always stepping in," she interrupted, raising her chin. Her eyes flashed and he raised his eyebrows, surprised at her fury. "I don't need you looking over my shoulder. I don't need your help!"

He raised his hands in supplication. "Gregor is sorry to be overstepping boundaries set by evil girl. He is only wanting to thank Tharja again – you did him great favour! Brother hears apology and forgives Gregor... now he is like new man."

"Yeah? Well that makes one of us who's happy."

"Oy, but Gregor says thank you many times over. Why are you giving him that evil glare of fury?"

"I don't need your help. I don't need anything from you and now that I've done what I've said I would," she added, jabbing a finger in his direction, "I don't have any reason to – "

She didn't get any further. Gregor'd had enough of her tirade. In one step he closed the distance between them, his big hands cupping her face, and his mouth cutting off her words. She stiffened under the kiss, and he let her go as quickly as he'd captured her.

"Now evil girl has something to be mad about," he said gruffly.

She stood speechless, one hand rising to her mouth before she hurried away from him. Gregor watched her go, her black cloak fluttering behind her. He smiled; he'd been wanting to do that for a long time.

Next to him came a low whistle. "Looks like you showed her," Gauis said, appearing at the mercenary's side.

Gregor shrugged his large shoulders. "Gregor not so sure about that."

"Might want to watch your back," the thief agreed with a meaningful glance, "them dark mages tend to be tricky. And vengeful. You might find yourself with a nasty curse following you after that."

"Maybe. Gregor thinks it worth it."

Gauis raised his eyebrows, taking a thoughtful lick of the lollipop he held before biting into it. "If you say so. You seen the princess?"

Gregor shook his head, watching as the thief wandered off. He suspected more had happened than had been reported. He frowned. He half-wished he'd been asked to go scouting. It sounded like it had been much more exciting than being stuck around camp.

_But if Gregor had gone,_ he thought, _he would not have been able to talk to brother._ That was true. If he'd gone off, he never would have had the time to sit down with Tharja. He might not have been able to get the time to convince her to help him.

And she wouldn't have been angry with him, meaning he wouldn't have found a reason to steal that kiss.

"Gregor."

Turning, he saw Lon'qu standing there stiffly. Or maybe that was the way he always stood. The way his arms were rigid at his sides and his shoulders pulled back – it made Gregor tired just too look at.

"Ah Lon'qu... you were not at meeting?"

"No," the younger man replied, shaking his dark hair from his eyes. "I saw no reason to be there."

"Gregor thinks someone was missing you," the mercenary teased.

"I... nevermind that. I came to –"

"Ah, Lon'qu wants another duel, yes?"

"No, must you always interrupt? I came to apologize. I concede that you beat me fairly in our duel. You are right. I am both young and a fool. I need more battle experience," Lon'qu added, his jaw tightening as he made the admission. "It's the only way I will gain the wisdom required to anticipate your sly moves."

Gregor grinned, chuckling. "Of course, and knowing is half of battle! You are needing those things, yes? But you are also needing to learn how to handle sword."

The younger man stiffened further – if that were possible. His head came up and his dark eyes flashed. "Are you implying –"

"Do not make Gregor repeat self," the mercenary interrupted, raising a big hand. A plan was forming in his mind and it was hard to keep the grin off his face. This could be fun. "You need spend time with Gregor so he can be teaching sword skills."

Lon'qu paused, his brows drawing together as he realized what it meant. "I thought sellswords only fight for money."

"Gregor say that once. But in recent days, he is starting to change thinking. Gregor is feeling loyalty to Shepherds," he added with a shrug, "and wants to helping in all ways." That wasn't the half of it. He'd actually felt guilty for taking Lon'qu's money last time. The bag of copper coins still sat in his tent, unspent. He couldn't make himself do it! It almost felt like he'd stolen it, although it had been given to him fair and square.

Maybe he could pawn them off on Gauis and convince the man to spend it on sweets.

"Then I demand you teach me everything you know!" Lon'qu said abruptly. If Gregor hadn't known better, he would've said the younger man was fighting a smile of his own. Kind of hard to tell with the furrowed brow and harsh line of his mouth.

"You have angry passion of young man," he said, letting his grin break through. "But Gregor is liking that! You remind him of young Gregor when he was being very hotheaded! Let us make with the training then. Gregor whip you into shape."

They walked to the sparring ring, his chuckle filling the space between them. One thing he planned on was loosening the swordsman up. Lon'qu needed to let go once in awhile – he needed to actually smile. Gregor though a good hearty laugh would do the young man good, but didn't want to push his luck.

He wondered if the man drank.

A plan formed in his mind, but he kept it to himself for now. He'd have to get the help of a few others. Movement caught his eye off to the left and he saw Arkelle striding from her tent with an armload of books and a quill stuffed behind her ear. A smile curled his lips.

Yes, that would work.

"So!" he clapped his hands together as they entered the ring. "Lon'qu is ready to learn sword? He is ready to forget all else and be blade in hand?"

"I am ready."

"Oh ho! So serious. Alright, strip down. We will fight in breeches only." He followed his own advice, un-strapping his shoulder guard and then tugging his tunic over his head. The sun warmed his bare shoulders and he stretched. A satisfying crack sounded as he leaned his head to one side and then the other.

Then he noticed Lon'qu stood unmoving.

"Lon'qu is shy?"

"I do not see the point of removing my clothing," he replied, a faint blush colouring his cheeks. His eyes gave nothing away, but they didn't have to.

"Lon'qu wants to learn way of sword, yes? Wants to be one with blade? He must unburden himself. No distractions – and big blue coat is giant elephant of distraction, yes?"

"What is wrong with my coat?"

Gregor shook his head, trying to keep his smile off his face. He slipped off his boots, setting them in the pile as well. He took of his light linen under shirt last, baring his chest to the sun. Much better.

With some hesitation, Lon'qu unbuckled his belt. He lowered it to the ground next to Gregor's pile, and began to undo the ties of his coat.

Gregor waited patiently, amused as the younger man finally relinquished his shirt and boots, standing barefoot across from him.

"Ah there, Lon'qu has murder in his eyes, but now he is ready," Gregor said, nodding. "Now, show sword stance. No – without sword," he added as the other man moved towards the weapons' rack.

"You want me to... move through the stances without a sword?"

Gregor nodded, picking up one of the wooden swords himself. Feeling the weight of the weapon, he turned and watched as Lon'qu settled himself into a ready stance. He reached out with the sword, thwacking the other man's arm.

"Ow – what was that for?"

"Your form," Gregor said, ignoring the younger man's glare. "Be solid. Must always be solid even without sword."

"How can I be solid when the weight is not there?" Lon'qu protested. "I hold no weapon."

"Do not be arguing! Do eagle soaring – you know this pose, yes?"

In answer, the swordsman raised his arms and straightened his left leg. Gregor nodded in approval. He could work with this.


	40. Chapter 40

**For those of you wondering, yes Arkelle loved the sight of Lon'qu practicing shirtless ;)**

**This chapter was a request by my sister, who wanted to see Ricken and Lon'qu spending some quality time together. Also, I'm updating early because tomorrow is Christmas Eve and I'm leaving town! A very Merry Christmas to all of you :D**

**/Zen**

* * *

"You must raise your arm this way," Lon'qu grunted, nudging Ricken's left arm higher. The boy's frown deepened and he tightened his grip on the practice sword as he tried to hold the altered position.

"Like this?"

"Better."

Ricken blew some of his hair out of his eyes. "Now what?"

Lon'qu looked down at his charge darkly. "You should know this sequence. Move through it."

"But I'm not sure which part comes next..."

"We've gone through it enough times."

The red-haired boy flushed and his stance wavered. "It's not as easy for me to remember! I've only been doing this for barely a week and with the battle practically tomorrow I'm just..."

"Afraid?" Lon'qu supplied.

The boy pursed his lips, looking straight ahead, but did not answer.

Lon'qu sighed, and glanced at the sky for patience. Kids weren't his thing – for him they were little better than women to deal with. They depended on you so much and took to everything you did. But then again, he reminded himself, Ricken was only a couple years younger than he himself. Their youths had been radically different, but the boy was trying.

_Arkelle would suggest patience_, he found himself thinking. Why did it matter what she might think? But he discovered it did matter; he wanted her to think well of him, so he dredged up what patience he could find.

"It is human to be afraid," he told the boy gruffly, clasping his hands behind his back. "It is natural. But you cannot let it affect you in battle."

"But you – "

"I do not hesitate in battle," Lon'qu cut in. "Woman or no woman, when a sword is involved I am focused."

Ricken's brows knotted together. "So I have to... focus?"

"If you do not feel comfortable with a sword this battle... or if you find you can do more damage with your tomes... use them."

"But I've been training so hard!"

Lon'qu nodded. "You have worked hard," he agreed. "For someone not accustomed to the sword, you have done well. But why go into such a battle with a weapon you are not familiar with?"

"I guess that makes sense..."

"Now, defend yourself!"

Lon'qu lunged forward, slowing his regular pace a fraction to give the boy time to react. Ricken deflected his attack, parrying well for someone so slight.

"Good," he grunted. He could feel the ache in his arms and across his back from the workout Gregor had given him the day before, but he welcomed the burn. Each ache and dull throb of pain told him he was getting better, that he was making progress.

Spinning on his heel, he threw his weight into a second thrust. Again Ricken was forced to parry and step aside. His balance wavered, but he kept his feet. The boy's eyes grew serious as he brought his sword up from the left side of his hip, whipping it forward towards Lon'qu's stomach.

The swordsman deflected it easily and spun away from the wooden blade. A quick succession of blows forced Ricken backwards, and the boy stepped lively, not giving an inch easily. As Lon'qu swung toward the boy's head he expected Ricken to block the blow, but the boy darted under the swing and made a wild pass at his back.

Turning quickly, Lon'qu saw the sword pass several inches from him.

"Better," he said. "But too wide." He was impressed despite himself. Few had ever tried to evade him in a straight fight – Arkelle being one of the only others. He grunted. That must have been it; Ricken must have spoken with the tactician. Smart.

He started over, forcing Ricken to parry and thrust alternatively, and backing him across the ring before letting the boy practice his offensive.

"When do I get to learn to do some of the fancy moves?" Ricken asked, his blade still held up in front of him. He was winded, but still held the stance.

Lon'qu felt the corner of his mouth quirk upwards. Good, he was learning.

"Fancy moves?" he asked, his sword still raised as well.

"You know," Ricken said, gesturing with his wooden blade, "with the turns and the spins and stuff!"

Lon'qu easily batted the boy's sword aside and tapped his chest, just above his heart, with the tip. Ricken looked up at him without fear. The boy wasn't afraid of him – just curious. _Too curious_.

"Such things come with time," he said. He nudged the boy back gently with the sword then asked: "Where did you see these fancy moves you talk of?"

"Haven't you seen the crazy stuff Gauis manages? He's amazing!"

Lon'qu raised an eyebrow. "Is he now?"

Ricken flushed and shrugged. His sword dangled from his hand at his side now. "Well it looks amazing, but I don't know how he does it. Doesn't that sort of thing leave you open for attack? You're not guarding then, right?"

"Like now?" Lon'qu asked, lunging forward.

Ricken raise his sword just in time, the impact of Lon'qu's blade shaking him bodily. His eyes were wide with shock now.

"Never let your guard down. Never."

"But what about – "

"Gauis has much practice," Lon'qu said wryly. "He has a certain... style. You should never attempt things beyond your skill set in battle – especially not if it leaves you open to attack."

The redhead seemed to think hard on that. He did remember to keep his sword up this time. "I want to prove I've learned to use the sword," he said at last, "but I don't want to let anyone down. And we need to be at our best during this fight. So maybe I should use my tomes – and keep my sword for back up?"

Lon'qu nodded. "There is nothing wrong with knowing your limits. It is not as though there will never be another battle after this. You will have much time to overcome them."

"You... you think there will be a lot more battles after this?"

He hesitated, looking down at Ricken. The boy was several inches shorter than him, and had a look of innocence about him that made it easy to imagine him younger than he was. And hope. There was hope in the boy's face for a future.

Lon'qu cleared his throat and looked across the ring where Sully and Vaike were sharpening their weapons and talking quietly – quietly for them anyway.

"There will always be another battle," he said after a moment, his voice deeper even to his own ears. "Always a fight, a battle, a war. But you do not have to always be a part of it," he added, turning back to the boy.

"And you?" Ricken asked. His curious, wide eyes searched for an answer.

Lon'qu grunted, shifting his weight from his left leg. "The sword is what I know. So long as they need me, I will fight."

"I miss my family," Ricken admitted quietly. "But I don't want to let anyone down. If Chrom still needs me, I will be here as well."

"Then we should not waste time. We must have you ready!"

Lon'qu squared off against Ricken, raising his sword before him. He knew the boy must be aching more than he was, but it would be good for them both. There was much to learn, and he would teach what he could.


	41. Chapter 41

**Holidays, laziness, and good food apparently make me miss updates! Sorry guys. Enjoy this chapter, I know I did ;) **

**Oh and hola to the new readers! -waves- **

**/Zen**

* * *

The world around me was dark, and the red eyes of Risen stared back at me from every direction. The howl of a direwolf came from my left and an answering call rose on my right, followed by two more behind me. My sword trembled in my hands. My head and shoulders felt hot, but the rest of me, especially my fingertips, were freezing cold. Each breath was difficult.

_Where am I? Where did all these Risen come from?_

Laughter filled my head, loud and high-pitched, forcing me to my knees. Gods – a dream, it must be a dream! But it was so hard to breathe –

Suddenly I couldn't breathe at all and the blackness consumed me, forcing me to fall onto the hard and smooth ground. _Smooth?_

"Risen!" I shouted as soon as I could suck in a breath, sitting upright. "Wolves! Risen riding wolves! They're... all..." I blinked. I sat on the hard packed ground inside my tent, books and parchment sprawled out around me and Lissa standing above, doubled over in laughter.

"Oh gods, that was hilarious!" The princess giggled, clutching her stomach.

I took several more breaths, trying to still my pounding heart and waiting for the pain in my head to subside. "Lissa," I said at last, "gods bless it... I was fast asleep!"

"And dreaming of Risen and wolves apparently?" she teased. The girl bit her lip, trying to smother her smile. "I'm sorry. I tried to resist – really I did, it was just too perfect!"

With a sigh, I pushed myself to my feet and began to collect the books that had fallen with me. I must've fallen asleep at my desk.

"Really Lissa?" I asked, irritation scratching beneath my skin as I set the books on the desk. "Who does such things? Is that really how your parents raised you?"

I realized my mistake as soon as I'd said the words. Her smiling, mischievous face shattered and her blue eyes glistened.

"I... I don't know," she said, looking away from me now. "I never really knew my parents."

"Oh, right." Mentally I cursed myself. Sometimes, out here, it was hard to remember how young some of the Shepherds were. And Lissa was a princess – she wasn't used to all of this. She'd lost her parents when she was young and then Emm so recently... all in all, she was holding up really well. _I should be celebrating that she can dig up the energy to laugh at all,_ I thought.

"Lissa, that was... er..."

"Oh, don't worry about it," she said, straightening her shoulders. "I know you didn't mean anything by it. And actually, there's something else I should be apologizing for..."

"Whatever it is, I'm sure I can forget it if you can forgive my heartless comment..."

"Really? That's great!" she looked so relieved I began to worry. With a quick smile, she bounced on her heels which caused her blonde hair to brush her cheeks. "I was SO sure you were going to be SO angry. See, I was kinda doodling a picture of you in your big, new book of battle strategies –"

"The one Gauis picked up for me the last time he was in the market?" I asked, my heart sinking into my stomach.

"Uh, yeah aaand then I kinda spilled the ink and kinda... ruined the whole book. Kinda completely Ireallyreallyreallyreallydidn'tmeanto!" she added quickly, biting her lip and ducking her head to look up at me through her lashes.

"What?! But that – it was – it was a rare text! And I'd only just started to..." I cut myself off, pressing my lips together and taking a deep breath through my nose. _It was an accident_, I told myself. _An accident. She didn't mean to. _"I mean, it's... it's fine. Accidents... happen."

Gods that was painful.

"Oh thank goodness!" Lissa exclaimed, breaking into another smile. "You're so understanding Arkelle!"

"I try," I said, gritting my teeth. "But if you don't mind, now that I'm awake..." I gestured to the pile of books and miss-matched parchments on the desk.

"Oh! Right. You've got lots of planning so we all live through the week!" She gave me a last smile before skipping out of my tent. I let out a heavy sigh and went to find the text in question. Sure enough, it was covered in ink.

_What a waste_. I'd hardly gotten to do more than peek at it.

"No use crying over spilled honey," I muttered to myself. I chuckled to myself then – I could fully imagine Gauis crying over spilled honey.

It didn't take long to get back into my books. I'd been in the middle of checking into some old scrolls we had on the fortress Gangrel occupied. I was matching up what the scrolls told me with what Gauis had said the day before. So far so good.

I planned to split us into two groups, keeping the second group to hold back a bit in preparation for the reinforcements Gangrel meant to bring crashing down on us. He might think he was the one with the surprise, but I meant to be at least one step ahead of him at all times.

I checked one more time into my reference book – a text I'd been putting together myself during our travels – and then put down my quill. My fingers were ink-stained and my back ached from being hunched over the desk, but I was satisfied. Stretching my hands above my head I stood and blew out the three candles that lit my workspace.

Darkness flooded the tent. I blinked. Was it that late already? I peeked outside my tent flap and the moon in the sky confirmed it. I must've fallen asleep just before noon and Lissa woke me around supper time. It was now well into the night.

My stomach grumbled. I'd missed lunch AND supper.

There was likely nothing left of either meal what with Stahl back in camp, but I figured I could dig out some dried fruit, some left over bread, and maybe some jerky. That would do well enough. Then maybe I could try to sleep again.

Now that I wasn't hip deep in the books and scrolls though, my worries came back to me. What if it wasn't good enough? What if I'd miscalculated? And the darkness of camp brought back the dregs of the dream Lissa had woken me from. The blackness, the Risen, and that laugh...

"Arkelle."

"What in – Lon'qu," I said, releasing my hand from my sword hilt. I'd grabbed for it without thinking. "You shouldn't sneak up on people that way."

"Where are you going at such an hour?"

"I forgot to eat lunch... and supper," I admitted, giving him a sheepish smile.

With a grunt and a sharp shake of his head, he nudged me along with a hand at the small of my back, urging me towards the mess tent and following alongside me. My heart, nearly stilled a moment before, fluttered now even after he removed his hand.

"You are thinking of the battle to come," he said. "But we cannot win if you fall over from starvation."

"Fair point," I replied. "But it weighs heavily on me. I think – no, I'm certain I've come up with the best plan possible. But what if I'm wrong? Gauis saw the troops and the setup, but they could completely change by the time we get there."

"We all die sometime," he replied.

I nodded, but could not share his flippancy. Chrom trusted me, as did the rest of the Shepards. I would never forgive myself if I led them to their deaths. I bit my lip. I'd never forgive myself if it led to _his._

His hand came up to me again, this time to cradle my elbow. His fingers were firm and warm. I'd left my coat behind again, but his hand smoothed away the goosebumps the night chill had given me. Surprisingly, that one hand was comforting.

"You are a good tactician," he said, his voice dropping another octave as we moved forward again, "and you are a good fighter. We will follow you where you guide... I will follow you."

I wanted to take his words to heart – and that last comment set my empty stomach swirling – but all the possibilities for failure kept coming back to me. There were so many ways all of this could go wrong. Too many ways. And I had promised Ricken I would get him and everyone else through all of this safely. I'd as good as promised Chrom I'd do the same. How could I let them down?

In the midst of these troubling thoughts, something hit me in the shoulder.

"Ow!" I exclaimed, although the pain was minimal.

"Heh."

Through the darkness I saw Lon'qu tossing something up and down with his free hand. I turned towards him, squinting. "Is that... did you just throw a _fig_ at me?"

"Let's say I owed you one," he replied diffidently. The faint quirk lifting the corner of his mouth betrayed him. "You looked much too serious."

"I'd like to see you try and hit me while I'm paying attention," I challenged.

He shook his head. "You gave me no such quarter."

I feel heat rush to my cheeks. "No I suppose I didn't."

"Are you willing to concede so easily?" he asked.

At the suddenly serious tone in his voice, I looked up at him and caught my breath. Was it my imagination or was he standing closer than normal?

"If you give up so easily," he said quietly, "how will we ever win our battles?"

He was definitely standing closer. How was it that I was the one choking up? Swallowing hard, I took a step, closing what remained of the distance between us. He stiffened a little, but didn't move.

"How can I lose when you are next to me?" I asked.


	42. Chapter 42

**Since you all enjoyed that last chapter so much... *wink***

**/Zen**

* * *

I held my breath, looking up into Lon'qu's shadowed face. A bare inch separated us, and it took all of my discipline not to reach up and touch his face. But I waited. I wouldn't be the one to push him, not if this wasn't what he wanted. Not when I needed him so badly in the battle coming.

_Of all the times to be thinking like a tactician. _The thought was rich with sarcasm. I _was_ a tactician. It's in my blood.

But I was also a woman.

He reached up slowly, tucking some stray hair behind my ear. My blood pounded loudly until it was the only sound I knew.

"Arkelle," he said, his voice so low I almost could not hear him even as close as I was, "if you die out there... I will kill you."

I laughed. I couldn't help it. Smiling up at him I reached up and paused.

"Is it okay...?" I asked, feeling strange since I'd stopped half-way to a hug.

He grunted and I took that for ascent. Wrapping my arms around his neck and trying not to shudder as I did it, I pressed my cheek into his shoulder. It felt so good - so ridiculously good - to be so close to him.

"What... what do I do?" he asked in a strangled voice.

Chuckling, I told him: "Hug me back."

"Very well... like this?" he asked. Slowly, one arm and then another wrapped around my back. Warmth spread through me and I realized that despite the Shepherds being as close as we were, we rarely gave any hugs. In fact, I couldn't remember ever having one.

This felt even better.

"That'll do," I told him with a grin as I pulled back. I decided I liked hugs. I could do with a few more of those. "So you'll fight with me tomorrow?"

"As you wish."

I paused, wondering how far I dared to push this. How far I dared to push _him._ But the hug made me brave. I opened my mouth to ask him the question burning on my tongue, but my stomach interrupted by growling – loudly.

He raised his eyebrows at me, his mouth quirking into a little half-smirk. "You should go eat. I... have something to attend to."

Disappointment washed over me, but I shoved it aside. Now was not the time to be disappointed. I pulled up the safe and warm feeling the hug had given me, determined to hold onto it as long as possible.

"Alright," I said, watching as he walked off. Part of me wanted to go after him, but he was right. I needed to eat. There would be plenty of time after the battle... or would there? After this, would we still see each other at all? What would happen when the war was over?

I shook myself, ducking into the mess tent. I could worry about that later.

Stopping short, I realized there was already a light on in the tent – and I wasn't the only one getting a late meal, by the look of it.

"Chrom?"

"Arkelle –ow!" He'd stood up too quickly and thumped his head on one of the free-standing shelves. Rubbing his head and wincing, he looked over at me.

"You alright?" I asked.

"I will be, I've a thick head – or so Basilio keeps telling me."

"He means well," I told him with a smile, moving further into the tent and digging through one of the barrels. I came up with a sac of dried apple slices, of which I dug out a handful.

"I know, I know. Arkelle... "

I paused with my hand in another sack, searching for the jerky this time. The look on his face told me this wasn't just another mid-night snack run for him. I sighed and straightened, setting the food I'd gathered on the table before walking over to where he stood.

"Chrom," I said, looking up at him with my hands set on my hips, "listen to me now. Look at me."

He did, the candlelight flickering over the plains of his handsome face. His eyebrows were drawn together, causing a line of worry to appear between them. I wanted to smooth that crease out, but I was done making it easy for him. I thought maybe he hadn't been holding onto the guilt, that maybe he was dealing with it well enough alone. But it was still there, and I couldn't have that jeopardizing the fight against Gangrel. I needed him at his best – and that included his mind.

"I was powerless once, too, remember? And yes, alone, I don't think either one of us is half the person your sister was. But together, as the friends we've become... maybe we can be something more. If you fall," I told him, "I'll be there to pull you back up. When you fight for your sister's ideals, I'll be by your side."

"I think I could, if you were there with me," he said quietly.

"You don't have to become your sister, you know," I added. I tried to find a flicker of understanding in his blue eyes, something to tell me he followed what I was trying to say. "You can still be true to yourself. You just have to give people hope in whatever way you can."

"And what if I can't? What if I'm not worthy of her ideals? What if... what if I drag you down with me?"

I smiled up at him, raising an eyebrow. "Is that really what you think?" I asked. "That you aren't worthy? Look at what you've done for everyone. How you've brought us all together. Do you think just anyone could have done that? You have a thief, a sellsword, and a dark mage in your army. Not to mention the Feroxi soldiers who've joined up with us. Do you _they_ would have joined you if you weren't worthy?"

He seemed surprised, like he hadn't thought of it that way before. _No, I suppose he wouldn't have._

"I guess..."

"There is no guessing about it," I told him, prodding him in the chest with a finger before turning away to retrieve some of my food. I popped a sliver of apple into my mouth and sat perched on the edge of the table.

"All of the Shepherds are behind you," I said. "All of us. We're going to see this through."

He looked at me a long while, his expression difficult to read.

"Thank you," he said at last. "I needed to hear that. Your... loyalty is more than I deserve."

"Don't go on like that." I brandished a piece of dried apple at him, scowling. "No more self-pity. No more guilt. Emmeryn didn't make her sacrifice so that you could go around feeling guilty for the rest of your life."

He gave me a faint smile. "No, I suppose she didn't."

I nodded sharply, picking up a piece of jerky next. Now that I was eating, I felt ravenous. "Are there any biscuits left over there?"

Chrom turned, searching through one of the shelves behind him. He picked up a wooden bowl and brought it over, setting it down beside me. After a moment's hesitation, he sat on the table top as well, picking up one of the sour dough biscuits himself.

We sat in the dark, eating in a comfortable silence.

"We'll be okay," I told him around a mouthful.

He nodded, meeting my eyes. "Yes, I think we will be."


	43. Chapter 43

**The final battle is beginning! **

** Aurora - a super late reply to your last review! So glad to know you're still enjoying this long-ass fic heh. The mushy moments are definitely my faves ;)**

**/Zen**

* * *

Chrom scanned the land from where he stood atop a small knoll. Tall grass brushed the metal of his armored boots, making a soft whispering sound. The faint wind wouldn't bother them much once they began the attack.

He turned, looking north for some sight of Frederick. He'd sent the knight ahead with Flavia to get a better look of the fort. He glanced at Arkelle, who stood chewing her bottom lip beside him. He'd thought a lot about what she'd said to him the other night. She didn't know how much he'd needed to hear that, especially from her. He searched for something to say that would show his appreciation, but came up empty.

"Milord!"

He turned and saw Frederick hurrying towards them, as quickly as his heavy armor allowed. In full gear, his friend looked as movable as a mountain.

"I've a report from Khan Flavia, milord. The Plegian army is in disarray."

Chrom started. "How do you mean?"

"In dissaray?" Arkelle asked at the same time, clearly as surprised as he was.

"It seems," Frederick said, catching his breath, "many of their soldiers are opposed to further violence. There has been infighting, desertion... Gangrel is trying to stamp out the mutiny by force, but with little success. Outside of a few faithful who serve him directly, his army has all but collapsed."

"This is incredible news. But why...?" Chrom stopped. _Of course_. Aloud he said: "Emmeryn."

"Yes, milord." Frederick nodded, meeting his gaze with brown-eyed sympathy. "Emmeryn. The report says Gangrel's men chant her name as they abandon the field. Her words, and her sacrifice, have made her a folk hero of sorts."

"That's incredible," Arkelle murmured, although Chrom barely heard her.

_Sister._ Even with her gone as she was, she'd practically won half the battle for him. Her way was working, even if she didn't know it. He hoped, wherever she was, she could see this. His resolve to settle things with Gangrel hardened.

"She believed all people desire peace," he said aloud. "She knew, deep down, the Plegians wanted it too."

"There are some things," Arkelle said, looking over at him, "which cannot be predicted. And some which cannot be prevented. Your sister has tipped the odds greatly in our favour."

He nodded even as he clenched his jaw. The guilt he felt over Emm... her sacrifice wouldn't be for nothing. He couldn't change what had already happened, but he promised himself that much.

"Today we end this," he said, meeting the gazes of both of his friends.

"I failed in my duty as a knight once," Frederick said darkly, "but I swear to you, I shall die before any more exalted blood is spilled!"

Chrom nodded, clasping his friend's shoulder. "Thank you. Truly. But let's keep the past behind us, there is no room for guilt here today," he added, glancing at Arkelle who gave him a slight nod.

Beyond them he saw the rest of his soldiers waiting. Everyone was dressed to the nines, polished and sharp. His banner lifted gently in the breeze at the head of the column. Olivia stood there, the dancer Basilio had urged him to bring along. He hoped the West-Khan knew what he was doing – the battlefield was no place for a person who couldn't defend themselves.

He caught a flash of metal at her side and saw she was armed after all – a short sword hung at her hip. He hoped the girl knew how to use the thing.

His gaze strayed to Lissa, who stood waiting across from Gauis. While the redhead looked bored, the princess appeared as determined as Chrom felt. She held her staff tightly at her side, and he noticed an ax hung from a belt at her waist. When had she trained with that? He hoped she wouldn't have to use it, but he knew even with so many of Gangrel's soldiers laying down their arms she may well have to use the weapon.

Taking a deep breath, he glanced back across the trees below to the shadowy stone that was Gangrel's fortress. _For Emm,_ he thought. _For Ylisse._

"Fight with me?" he asked, turning to Arkelle. Her sharp eyes seemed to search his, and he was tempted to turn away but made himself remain still. Let her see what she would – he needed her beside him today.

"Of course," she answered, drawing her sword. A new blade, slender at the tip and thickening towards the hilt. A fine weapon.

"Time for ol' Gangrel to get a taste of his own vulenary!" Flavia announced as she came up to them. Her blond hair was tied back from her face, except for the few strands which always escaped and flew about her face. Her red armor shone in the midday sun, not unlike the blood they would be spilling before the day was out.

Basilio grinned, coming up behind her. His one eye flashed with excitement. "You ready to go get 'em, Commander?"

"Commander?" Chrom laughed. "What happened to 'boy'?"

"You've earned your way up from that name, I think," the West-Khan answered, his grin softening. "Now c'mon, let's get cracking skulls!"

"The Feroxi army will take the Southeast, as agreed," Flavia said, nodding at Arkelle. "We'll give them a distraction they'll regret."

"Ought to leave you more than enough time to get to ol' Gangrel," Basilio added with a wink. Considering his other eye was covered with a black eye patch, it looked almost funny on the big man. Not that Chrom dared laugh at him.

Turning, he surveyed his soldiers once more. He saw them as Arkelle had said – the new mixed with the old. Sumia, Cordelia, Vaike, Gregor, Tharja, and the rest. All of them, willing to fight for him. To fight for Ylisse. Together, they could return peace to the lands.

"Shepherds!" he shouted, drawing his falcion and raising it above his head to catch the light. His soldiers, his brothers-in-arms, looked to him. "You honor me by standing here today. We have come far together, and I ask one more battle of you. We shall not falter – we shall answer the outrage done to us and to the Exalt! Today we put an end to Mad King Gangrel! Today – today we bring peace back to the land!"

They cheered, raising spears, swords, and bows aloft. Horses and pegasi alike stomped their hooves, snorting. Sully kneed her stallion, causing it to rear up on its hind legs as she hefted her weapon aloft. Chrom's smile was grim. With them at his back, he would bring justice. And then they could all go home.

Their cheers echoed in his ears as they moved down the knoll and into the valley where they would have their fight at last. Ahead he saw Gangrel's fortress, the Plegian flags waving in the wind. Soldiers moved quickly in front of it, readying themselves for his onslaught.

_I'm coming for you, Gangrel._


	44. Chapter 44

**I secretly love this chapter so much :D But, er, warning there is some mild gore haha**

** Aurora: There's like 4 or 5 chapters left but I have an epilogue planned as well should be nearly 10 chapters so don't worry! I just am loving this so much I don't want to stop writing it XD**

**/Zen**

* * *

Gregor followed the Shepherds down into the valley, hollering loud enough to wake demons. He'd see this fight through and live to fight another day.

Once into the trees, the Feroxi soldiers split to the right, angling Southeast. He hoped Arkelle had been right, but then, it wasn't his place to question. The river burbled on their left, and he moved towards it with Tharja beside him. Her dark cloak fluttered about her like the black clouds of a nightmare. She'd thrown her hood back and had a tome poised in her left hand.

"Tharja is ready?"

She shot him a glance, and he wondered for a moment if she was still mad. They'd barely spoken since the other day, but in battle such things were to be put aside. There was no room for animosity between soldiers. Could she do it?

"I am ready," she replied, her sharp eyes returning to the trees.

"Good. Ah, there is bridge."

They'd been appointed to guard the bridge which crossed the river so no Plegians would sneak up behind them. The rest of the Shepherds pulled ahead, aiming for the stone fortress. Gangrel hid there, the scoundrel.

Gregor slipped into the thick shadows offered by the pine trees and stood still, listening. He wasn't sure if there would be anyone coming this way at all, but if there were he'd have to deal with them immediately. While he was proud Arkelle thought the two of them could hold the bridge alone, he planned for both himself and Tharja to make it out of this battle alive which meant much more care to be taking.

_Gregor have no intention of kicking bucket this day,_ he thought grimly.

A quiet murmuring caught his ear over the gentle rushing of water. He glanced over.

"What evil girl is doing?"

Tharja waved at him to be silent, not even looking up from her book. Her lips moved quickly and all at once a bright purple light flashed, darting outwards in a ring from her feet. Gregor stumbled, but the light passed through him without so much as a twinge.

"What –"

"There are five men, that way," she answered, pointing across the bridge. "We have a few moments." Her eyes darkened as she looked over at him.

"Spell tells you that?"

She nodded, glancing over the bridge again.

He cocked his head to one side, thinking and scratching at the back of his neck. His sword hand itched. "Tharja can... flush them out? Like fox in coup of chickens?"

Her eyes sparked and an evil smile crossed her face that, for once, he shared. "Mm I could do that."

Gregor drew his blade, running a thumb along the edge lightly. _Sharp enough to shave arm hairs with,_ he thought, satisfied.

Across from him, Tharja had found a new page in her tome. She spread her hand flat on the parchment and drew herself up to her full height. Her voice hummed and this time he felt the magic vibrating through the air. It swirled around her, a bright white, before darting off across the weathered planks of the bridge. Dark clouds had collected overhead and a sharp wind blew from the West towards them.

"That is you?" Gregor asked, glancing at her.

She nodded once, without taking her attention from the trees across the river. He checked the straps holding his guard onto his left arm and shifted his weight onto the balls of his feet. For a moment there was only silence, and then he heard it. A shout and the sound of heavy boots pounding the earth. They were coming.

Tharja chuckled darkly, leaning forward in anticipation. "Be ready," she told him.

"Gregor born ready."

When the soldiers appeared, he did not hesitate. The first one to come at him across the bridge, running like a bloodthirsty wolf was on his heels, was a beserker. The man's burgundy tunic flapped out behind him and his eyes were wild behind his horned helmet. Still, he was not so out of sorts that he did not have his ax ready.

Gregor ducked under the man's broad swing, bringing his sword up and down onto the brute's opposite shoulder. It wrought a heavy grunt from both of them, but the armor held. Behind him, he heard Tharja shout a curse and saw a flash of purple light from the corner of his eye.

His opponent, favouring the offended shoulder, took another swing. Gregor was not a small man, and ducking under that attack would have been impossible. He hopped back a step, turning just in time to avoid the sword of a man that had come up behind him.

"Get down!"

He obeyed Tharja's command immediately, diving into the dirt between the two soldiers. They looked around stupidly and were hit by her blast. As soon as it passed, Gregor was back on his feet. The second Plegian still stood, wincing but ready.

Gregor lunged forward and when the other man parried, he slashed again. He brought his sword around to the other side and this time the Plegian's blade was too low to block. Gregor sliced him across the chest. For good measure, he brought the sword back up across the man diagonally, cutting from hip to shoulder. Blood ran and the soldier fell.

"Gregor!"

He turned, narrowly avoiding the arrow which planted itself into the tree next to him. _Gregor nearly was pin cushion!_

"Your jigging is up!" He roared, darting for the archer. The man fumbled for another shot but missed. Backing up a step the archer dropped his bow and grabbed for his sword.

He was too slow. Gregor was upon him before the man could fully draw the blade from its scabbard. As he slumped to the ground, Gregor turned, searching for his next opponent. "Who want more Gregor?" he demanded.

Tharja stepped over a fallen soldier, holding her cloak up with her free hand. Her dark eyes found his.

"And to think," she drawled, "all of this before I've even sharpened my nails."

He grinned, cleaning his sword off in the grass next to him before sheathing it and walking to her. He scooped her up and spun her around, laughing.

"Ah ha! These soldiers no match for us!"

"Put me down you old man!" she exclaimed, beating his forearm with her tome. She was giggling though too, if somewhat more reserved than he was. She pressed her lips together in an effort to smother her smile. Her attempt to glare at him made her look adorable, if one could use that word on a woman who could hex him five ways from Monday.

When he set her down she smacked him once more, this time across his chest, then she put her hands to her hips. "Really? I had to step in twice. Were you even trying?"

"Oh ho, you were worried! How cute," he teased. "But Gregor not kicking buckets so easily."

"I – I never – "

He laughed again, resting his big hands at her waist. "Evil girl is stuttering."

"You're invading my personal space," she shot back as a blush rose into her cheeks.

"Yes, Gregor may be overstepping bounds little tiny bit," he said. Brushing a bit of her hair back from her face, he met her gaze before his eyes dropped to her mouth. It was parted a little, inviting.

She was so small in his arms. He cradled her gently to him, a hand on the small of her back beneath her cloak and the other at the base of her neck as he kissed her deeply. She didn't bother to protest this time, and nearly melted into him. Her small hands rested against his chest and her mouth opened against his, tentatively.

A breeze rustled his hair as the whisper of fabric caught his ear.

They broke apart instantly, both having heard the movement. Behind them the beserker was on his knees, throwing ax in his bloody hand.

Gregor shoved Tharja back, forcing her to stumble, and dodged the wickedly sharp weapon slicing through the air. As he leaned to the side he slipped a thin knife from his sleeve and flicked it towards the man. It caught the Plegian in the throat and with a burble, he finally died.

"That was unnecessary," Tharja sniffed, dusting herself off and glancing at him reproachfully.

"Gregor is sorry to be pushing you," he said, offering his hand.

She ignored it, turning. "No more distractions. We're supposed to be guarding the bridge."

"Distractions?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. "Gregor is not distracted."

He watched, amused, as a blush rose again in her cheeks. She looked away from him and he noticed something different in her expression, a change in her eyes before she turned.

"What? What is the matter?"

"Ever since I hosted the soul of your brother," she began, "something has been... wrong with me. I keep thinking about you. It's... incredibly annoying." The dark mage crossed her arms defensively, but still refused to look at him. Gregor smiled softly.

"Ah," he said. "You fall in love with Gregor? Is okay."

"What?" she gasped, turning to him. "No, I mean –"

He held up a big hand and stepped towards her. "Is good," he said, stopping when he was close enough. With one hand, he dug into one of the pouches at his hip. "Gregor... Gregor likes you too. Could be better with timing, but... present for you."

He held out a thick, twisted band of metal. The inside was smooth and polished, while the exterior looked like writhing vines.

Tharja reached out, touching it with one finger. "This... is a ring."

"Look on inside," he insisted. "Is having Gregor's name carved in! If you accept, then we carve your name next to Gregor's."

She looked up at him curiously. "Do you intend to continue using the name of your brother?"

"Thanks to you, I know he forgives Gregor for unfortunate and violent death. So now Gregor bears his name with pride!" He chuckled. "Also very used to it by now."

"Well, it's as much yours as your brother's I suppose," she said. Then her mouth curled into a mischievous smile. "Maybe now some of my curses will actually stick."

Gregor caught her hand with his free one and met her gaze evenly. "For you, Gregor do anything. Even if it turns him into toad."

Tharja snorted and squeezed his hand back. "I don't think that will be necessary."


	45. Chapter 45

**The battle begins! thanks for your awesome reviews guys - did you know we're up to like 65,000 words? THANK YOU FOR READING THIS FAR AND FOR ALL YOUR AWESOME COMMENTS :D**

**/Zen**

* * *

We slowed our pace as we came within range of Gangrel's fortress. The stone walls loomed above us and some ragged archers stood at the tops, their pointed helmets gleaming. Soldiers with swords and at least two sorcerers stood out front of the walls, feet set apart and ready. A breeze rustled the pages of their tomes open in front of them. A small gathering, but I didn't doubt the mad king had more men within the walls, regardless of how many had already laid down their weapons.

Mentally, I thanked Emmeryn.

Chrom was focused on the gate beyond the men and though his grip on his falcion tightened, he slowed as well. No point to go rushing in.

Lon'qu appeared at my side. He looked ahead too, focused, but I sensed a question just in the way he stood with his body angled slightly towards me.

"Chrom has asked me to fight with him," I said quietly. "I won't let him down. Will you stay with Ricken?"

He did look at me then, with dark eyes that tried to see right through me. I reached out and touched the back of his hand where it rested on his sword hilt, holding his gaze.

"I won't die," I told him with a wry smile. "I still owe you a debt to be repaid in figs."

He snorted at that, the dark shadows in his eyes receding a little. Were those shadows doubts? Did he doubt my resolve? If we hadn't been rushing into battle, I might have questioned him. As it was, I had to settle for shooting him a quick smile and trusting he understood. He'd look after Ricken, that much I knew.

A few quick steps brought me back to Chrom's side where he'd stopped in front of the fortress. His dark blue gaze, murderous now, was trained on the crest of the wall above the gate. Plegian flags fluttered and between a pair of them stood a man with curly red hair outlined by the midday sun. His yellow cape whipped about his torso as he looked down on us.

"Gangrel!" Chrom shouted. The power in his voice would have cowed a lesser man.

A cackling laugh rose in the air as the man on the wall threw his head back. "Good day, my little princeling! Still dreaming of your squashed sister?"

Shock blasted through me. What kind of man would bring that up? What self-respecting king would dare to mock such a death? No wonder his soldiers had left in droves.

"No more talk, Gangrel," Chrom growled, raising his sword to point it at the king. "Today you die, and peace returns to Ylisse and Plegia both!"

"Pah! You want to cut me down! You don't know the first thing about peace. No man does!"

"I know more than you ever will."

"More than me? More than ME?" Gangrel threw back his head and laughed. The sound sent shivers racing down my spine. "You ARE me! When life asks you a question, you answer with blood!"

Chrom stiffened and I took a step forward, glancing at him. Our shoulders brushed and the tension eased from him a little. _You're not alone,_ I thought_. __He's wrong._ He took a breath.

"You may be right," he said to Gangrel, "I will never be my sister. I cannot forgive men like you – men who sow nothing but evil. All I have left are her words... were I alone, I might be driven to madness... or worse. But I'm not alone. My friends and brothers-in-arms stand behind me." He gestured behind him at the Shepherds, and I smiled. His voice hadn't even wavered.

"May I vomit now?" Gangrel demanded, flicking his cape over his shoulder. "What a flowery harangue! Men are beasts, little prince... they use each other only so long as it suits their own selfish purpose!"

"Perhaps this explains why your own soldiers refuse to stand behind you?" Chrom suggested, swinging his sword wide before him. "Where are all your soldiers now Gangrel? Where are the frightening masses of your Plegian army – is this all that stands between my blade and your neck?"

"Such a clever tongue you have, little prince," the mad king spat. He leaned over the stone wall now, glaring down at us. "It will look quite fetching hanging on my mantle, next to your sister's corpse!" With that he spun on his heel and disappeared behind the wall. The archers raised their bows, arrows nocked.

A chill raced up my spine as I reached for my wind tome. From the corner of my eye I saw Chrom raise his arm and behind me Freddy shouted for our own archers.

My fingers found the page in my tome that I wanted and as the first volley of arrows descended, my spell swept them aside. They skewered the earth several lengths from us, their fletched tails wavering in the air even as our arrows returned the attack.

A couple of the men atop the wall tried to sidestep the volley, but there was no where to run. A second set of arrows followed, and there were no more men standing atop the wall.

Virion's voice chimed behind me: "A thing of beauty!"

"Shepherds, forward!" Chrom called, his strong baritone harkening us to meet the soldiers in front of the wall. The sorcerers there readied themselves, unsettled by what had just happened.

Replacing my tome to my satchel, I drew my sword and advanced. Chrom marched at my side and the Shepherds followed at my back. The prince charged the first swordsman, his falcion driving through the man's torso. I stepped in quickly, blocking an incoming swipe with a grunt. Blocking was definitely not my forte – I was more of a dodging king of girl.

"Let me help you!"

I shoved the offending Plegian backwards, opening him up for Cordelia who leapt forward. I'd noticed earlier she'd traded her thick knight's armor for the lighter leathers of a mercenary. Grim determination set her face and she wielded her short sword like she'd never known another weapon.

"Have another!" she shouted as she recovered from blocking the soldier's strike. Her red hair flashed out behind her as her sword clashed with the Plegian's. Beside her Chrom fought another man. Both of their faces were locked in a grimace that bared teeth.

A blast of fire shot our way and I brought my free hand up, guarding with a simple wind spell. It dispelled the flames and blasted Cordelia's opponent aside. The dark mage responsible stood in the shadow of the wall, her blond hair peeking out from beneath her cowl. She scowled across the battle at me, a heavy tome in one hand and the other raised, fingers curled.

Sheathing my sword, I readied myself for the next blast. She wouldn't try anything so trivial this time.

"At your side!"

I started as Chrom jolted me aside, his shoulder making rough contact with my chest. It knocked the breath from my body, causing me to stumble. Before he could say another word he had lunged forward again, battling a broad-faced Plegian with a wicked scar that pulled at the corner of his mouth. Each time their swords met the metal rang.

With my footing again I searched for the dark mage – where had she gone? She no longer stood where I'd first seen her, and that didn't bode well.

All around me the Shepherds clashed with the Plegians. To my far left I caught sight of Ricken, his floppy hat blown off and his tome open in his hand. Next to him Lon'qu fought with a single-mindedness that was at once beautiful and terrifying.

But that wasn't what caused my heart to stop. Behind them I saw the dark mage, her hood thrown back and her blond hair wild about her face like some kind of fierce halo. She had both hands raised in the direction Lon'qu and Ricken were fighting.


	46. Chapter 46

**Sorry for the late update guys! Got distracted lol. Here's some more action for you lovely readers~**

**/Zen**

* * *

Chrom swung his blade through the nearest man with a single-mindedness that would have impressed his tutors back in Ylisse. A part of him hated it – this wasn't something Emmeryn would have looked kindly on – but a part of him reveled in it at the same time.

_Yes Gangrel, h_e thought grimly,_ I answer your call in blood._

He stepped neatly aside of an ax blade, cutting off the head of the man who'd been wielding it. He didn't spare a moment for the body, just turned and searched for his next opponent. Where had Arkelle gotten to? He didn't have time to more than wonder; there were more than enough Plegians left to keep him busy and Cordelia seemed content to stick by his side.

Her red hair was a violent streak behind her. Without the heavy armor of a pegasus knight, she moved quickly and with accuracy. Her leather jerkin fit her perfectly and the long gloves covering her arms outlined the muscles she'd earned from long hours of hard work.

Initially he'd suspected she'd be at a disadvantage as a mercenary, having been more used to lances than a sword, but he should have known better. The woman never did anything half-way. The sword in her hand was a deadly weapon, and her footwork lacked nothing. Where had she found the time for such intense training?

He parried an incoming strike and she leaped forward, finishing the opponent before rushing back to his side. Despite himself, Chrom was impressed.

Taking the moment to wipe the sweat from his eyes, he looked ahead to the fortress. A path was clearing to the gate, and he was tempted to make a run for it. Gangrel was in there. His blood raged in his ears at the thought.

"Chrom!"

Cordelia thumped into him, her leather-clad elbow jabbing into his ribs in an attempt to move him out of harm's way. He didn't step far enough, however, and she raised her shield to block the spear which had been thrown at him. He felt the impact of the weapon as she jerked backwards into his chest. He caught her reflexively, letting her go again as she stepped away.

"Thanks, Cordelia."

She ripped the spear from her shield, throwing it down, and he saw it had pierced the metal. She waved off his concern, shaking her head.

"It's nothing," she told him although he noticed enough blood not to be fooled, "just a scratch. We don't have time for this."

He disagreed. Where was Lissa when he needed her? Glancing about he found his sister, her ax raised as she fought a Plegian at Gaius' side.

"Come on," he said, grabbing the sleeve of Cordelia's tunic and dragging her in that direction.

"I told you –"

"I need to go that way regardless," he growled. He hadn't meant for it to come out so harshly, but he couldn't take the words back now. And they did the job. She followed him even as he let go, cutting a swath through those in his way.

"Lissa!"

"Chrom – are you alright?" The princess turned as Gaius dispatched the knight in front of them. Her wide blue eyes inspected him quickly and, finding him in one piece, moved to Cordelia. Without a wasted word the princess slipped the ax into her belt loop and retrieved her staff.

Gaius covered her as she healed Cordelia's arm, and Chrom took the moment to look out over the battle. The Shepherds were doing well, but they were still outside the walls. He wanted to be inside – he wanted to have Gangrel in front of him.

"I'm going in," he announced.

"I'm going with you," Cordelia said, straightening. Her face was pale from the shock of her injury, but the arm was healed thanks to Lissa's skill.

Chrom hesitated. What he really wanted was Arkelle at his side, but he didn't have time to find her. This had to happen now, while he had the moment. He had to seize the opportunity. But he didn't want to risk Cordelia, especially after she'd just been healed. He knew from experience Lissa's staff could leave you a little light-headed. Gaius seemed to understand.

"You just got yourself healed up," the redheaded thief drawled, brushing back some of his hair which hung into his eyes with a free hand. "Stick with the princess will ya? I've got your back, Blue."

Both Lissa and Cordelia looked like they wanted to protest, but Chrom nodded and that stopped them. He trusted Gaius to have his back – as much as that might seem strange. How far had he come that a man who was once a thief was the one he trusted to keep a sword out of his spine?

They moved through the throng towards the gate without another word. Tension built in his chest as they approached. There ought to be someone guarding it, he was sure there would be, but no one moved to intercept them.

"Hold up now," Gaius said as they moved through. He scanned the area with sharp green eyes. Chrom deferred to his judgment – the man had been inside during his scouting mission. He knew the layout better than any of the Shepherds.

They didn't have to look far.

Two sorcerers and a pegasus knight stood ahead, with the king in the middle of them. Gangrel stood like he'd been waiting for this very moment, like he knew the soldiers out front would not stop Chrom from entering. Gangrel's grin split his face and he beckoned with a hand.

"Come, princeling! I've sharpened my sword just for you!"

Chrom tightened his grip on the falcion's hilt, but held a moment longer. "Am I to fight you and your three stooges all at once?"

The mad king threw back his head and laughed. "That wouldn't be any fun at all! Come, just you and me little prince." He waved the other three aside, although the knight didn't move too far, and Chrom glanced at Gaius. The once-thief moved aside but kept his eyes trained on Gangrel.

_I don't trust him to keep his word either,_ Chrom thought as he advanced. Out loud he said: "My sister wished for our people to know peace, Gangrel. But as long as you draw breath... it can never come."

Gangrel remained where he was, watching Chrom approach. His sword appeared lax in his hand, a long curved handle slick against his palm. The blade was jagged with wicked edges. Everything about the mad king spoke of excess – the twisted gold crown set in his red hair, the richly dyed clothes which clung to his frame, even his well-oiled leather boots.

Chrom raised his sword. "For Ylisse!"

He attacked and Gangrel side stepped, his jagged blade reaching for the sky. Chrom dropped back as a bolt of lightning shot towards him, blacking the earth where he'd been standing a moment earlier. He grit his teeth as the mad king laughed. Of course he would not play fairly.

Rethinking what little strategy he did have, Chrom feinted to the left to make it look like he'd go for a high-handed attack. The other man smirked, raising his sword to call the lightning again. As the air crackled and the earth rumbled, Chrom shifted his weight right and spun. His falcion caught Gangrel across his torso, slicing through the fabric of his tunic and revealing fine chain mail beneath.

The mad king hissed a breath, glaring at him.

"You will not live to see another day," Chrom told him grimly. He wasted no more time with words then. He forced Gangrel back by sheer force, attacking so rapidly the king could do nothing but block or stumble with little time to wage an attack of his own. All of Chrom's anger – at Gangrel, true, but at his own failings for when he could not save his sister, could not save the kingdom – coalesced in this moment. He felt it like a fire in his veins that urged him forward.

The king stumbled on a rock and fell back with a heavy thump. His crazed eyes darted to the side as Chrom raised his blade.

"What are you waiting for?" Gangrel demanded. Chrom thought at first the king was speaking to him, but then he realized the pegasus knight had moved. She had a short spear in her hand, the metal tip glinting in the sunlight. Chrom hesitated, but Gaius didn't.

"Oh no you don't!"

The redhead's hand flashed and a slim knife whipped through the air, piercing the knight before the spear had even left her hands. He retrieved it, wiping the blade off on a pant leg before re-sheathing it.

"Stabbing someone in the back's a little low, even for someone like you," Gaius said to Gangrel, cocking his head to one side.

"Clinging to each other won't save you maggots when the boot falls," Gangrel seethed. With a final surge of strength he raised is sword in a desperate stab at Chrom, aiming for the prince's gut.

Chrom blocked the attack easily, knocking the blade from Gangrel's hands, and followed it up by taking the king's head from his shoulders.

The mad king was finally dead.

"I think this calls for cake," Gaius announced.


	47. Chapter 47

**Dun dun dunnnn! It's Sunday people, new chapter! Just a couple left and I think these last ones are my faves :D **

**/Zen**

* * *

I pushed my way through the fighting Shepherds, ducking under blades and kicking spears aside. Panne slashed at a brawny beserker, her claws tearing into him. Virion finished the Plegian with a well-placed arrow.

"Your every move was poetry!" he declared with a bow towards Panne. The taguel growled at him.

I darted around them both, keeping my eyes locked on the dark mage, desperate to reach the blonde woman before she hurt anyone I cared about. She'd proven herself dangerous, and I'd recognized the look in her eyes. The one that said she would stop at nothing to do the most damage possible. The vindictive flash that had my heart pumping double time.

Mentally, I cursed Lon'qu. Why had he chosen to fight at the opposite end of the battle from me? Why couldn't he have stayed closer? When I finally got a hold of him...

A knight moved into my path. Her armor reflecting the sunlight into my eyes, forcing me to stop and squint. _I don't have time for this._

Stahl appeared at my right, his sword ready. With a roar, I charged the knight. This took her by surprise so much she actually took a step back, hesitating. It gave me just enough time to duck under her delayed swing and ram my shoulder into her stomach. It didn't hurt her in the least – if anything, my shoulder would be bruised something awful by tomorrow morning should I live that long – but my weight shoved her off balance. In her heavy armor, that was a big thing.

I resisted the urge to call _timberrrrr _as she stumbled and uttered a cry of dismay.

Stahl followed up with his broad sword. He had a stamina that really could only come from the strict training regimen Sully enforced. With his teeth grit and his wild hair slick with sweat, he attacked the knight in a flurry. She could barely fend him off.

Satisfied he had it under control, I darted around them and searched for my target.

_There._

Ricken and Lon'qu fought together smoothly, but neither seemed to notice the mage sneaking up on them. How did they not see her? Frustration forced a growl out of me. My shoulder was starting to ache and panic forced my chest to tighten. If I could be certain my magic would reach her at this range, I'd try something. But I wasn't close enough.

I pulled out my tome anyway, readying myself. As soon as I was within range, I was going to make her wish she'd left me and mine alone. I fingered the tattered parchment protruding from the pages near the back of the book. I'd found a scroll with a powerful wind spell, one I'd hoped not to use if I didn't have to. It took a lot of effort, the kind I wouldn't be able to produce twice. I'd have to make the first shot count. There would be no second chances.

She raised her hand toward Ricken and Lon'qu. I wanted to call out, but what good would that do? The boys would look to me and possibly be cut down by their current opponent.

_Damn you Lon'qu!_

I pushed my legs faster and then, finally, I was within range. Skidding to a stop, I planted my feet in the dirt and opened the tome. The dark mage looked at me as the spell formed on my lips, the incantation curling my tongue and making my heart pound.

Strong gusts rose, blasting those nearby aside. A Plegian on horseback toppled from his saddle and I saw Sully and Vaike bracing themselves, weapons dug into the ground. Bits of dirt and sand stung my face and hands, shot by the wind. I held my ground, concentrating on my opponent. She raised her arms against the gales, her cloak writhing wildly about her. Stumbling back she fell and was tossed about like a ragdoll. For a moment I felt victory – she was down! It was done!

Then she got back to her feet. She was unsteady, but murder gleamed in her eyes. Her cloak torn, she unclipped it and let it fall. Her blond hair was in snarls and dirt smudged her face.

I felt sweat beading at my temples. I'd only had the one use of Wilderwind – the most powerful wind magic I'd been able to find. As she began her spell, I already knew what was coming: Nosferatu. I recognized the shadows that began to swirl around her and the faint glow in her palm.

The tactician part of me was impressed she'd chosen to use the one spell that could sap my energy and replenish hers simultaneously. The rest of me was horrified. I had one chance to avoid it – wait until the spell was nearly upon me and dodge aside. If I moved too quickly, the spell would correct it's trajectory. I couldn't risk that.

It flashed from her hand, zipping towards me –

A weight barreled into me too soon. I knew immediately from the hard strength of the arms and softness of the coat it was Lon'qu.

"You fool," I gasped, unable to get my breath back as we hit the ground together. He'd moved too soon, and now the spell would hit us both. I buried my face into the fur of his coat, waiting for it. His arms tightened around me, his body arching to create a shield of himself. He couldn't know that it wouldn't matter – the spell would steal energy from both of us now.

What I felt on impact surprised me. Every part of me tingled, like a faint electrical shock danced across my skin. My hair stood up all over – across my scalp and up and down my arms. I sucked in a breath, my hands curling into Lon'qu's jacket. I felt him stiffen, his legs knocking into mine. Surely this wasn't what it felt like to have my energy sapped? This felt... tingly, but not altogether unpleasant.

_There are worse ways to die, I suppose._

It passed and Lon'qu shifted his weight, rolling onto his hip. We sat up together. I placed a hand on his chest, looking past him at the dark mage. She lay in a crumpled heap, the earth about her singed black in a crooked circle.

"What..." He frowned, confused.

"The ward," I whispered in awe. It was the only answer.

Lon'qu looked at me, still frowning. His mouth was drawn into a harsh line and his dark brows made it look like he was glowering at me. A scratch had drawn blood along his cheek.

"Tharja," I croaked. Swallowing hard, I tried again. "Tharja cast wards over some of the Shepherds, including me. And you I would guess. She set it so that if anyone tried to curse us, there would be some sort of... _unpleasant_ rebound."

He grunted, looking away from me. With some effort, he got to his feet. I scrambled to follow suit, a little unsteady.

"Are you two alright?" Ricken asked, stopping in front of us. He was breathing heavy and his cheeks were flushed. I'd always thought his big floppy hat had made him look young, but without it he looked even smaller. His eyes were wide and his rosy cheeks smudged with dirt. Sweat beaded on his forehead.

"We're alright," I told him, reaching out to ruffle his hair. "Didn't I tell you I'd keep everybody safe?"

He batted my hand away. "Kinda looks like Lon'qu was the one keeping you safe. Speaking of – hey, where are you going?"

I turned to see Lon'qu striding away from us. The swordsman ignored Ricken's question, unsheathing his sword and moving back into the fray. I called after him, but he did not so much as turn.

"Where's he going?" Ricken asked.

"I don't know," I said with a frown. He'd turned and left without a word. I had just made up my mind to go after him when I saw lightning strike within the fortress.

"That didn't look like Thoron," Ricken said beside me.

I shook my head. That was no spell, although it was a kind of magic. I'd seen it once before in a battle, although from a distance. Unless I was very mistaken, that was a Levin sword. Which meant Chrom was fighting Gangrel.

Without me.

"Go find Stahl," I told Ricken before plunging into the fray myself. Once more I raced through soldiers and ducked under swinging blades. I pushed my confusion over Lon'qu's actions out of my head. I could deal with him later. Right now I had to reach Chrom.

If the prince died, I'd never forgive myself.


	48. Chapter 48

**Guys! One chapter leftttttt D: I do have an epilogue, as I mentioned... and it mostly focuses on Chrom because I felt I kind of left him hanging lol. I may break a few 'rules' in that epilogue that I've got going, but I hope you guys will enjoy it. I just couldn't stop writing FE! Do you guys have characters you want to see after? There's still the whole Valm and Validar arc that I could get into but only if you guys wanted. And I would need different POV characters! So, suggestions? Would you even be interested?**

**Have a fabulous day!**

**/Zen**

**PS - It's mid-winter here in Canada, but I wore a light fall coat and runners... it was only -6 so it's practically balmy here! It should be like -21 right now, so I'm not sure what's with the weather but I am not going to complain! lol**

* * *

Chrom turned to face the remaining two sorcerers, remembering he'd yet to do anything about them. The two men doffed their hats and raised their hands, palms outward in supplication.

"We've no wish to fight further," said the first. He had a square jaw and jet black hair that contrasted sharply with his pale skin. His companion, a man with shoulder length brown hair and dark circles under his eyes, shook his head in vehemently in agreement. They both looked ready to run.

"Spread the news," Chrom told them, his voice coming out with a gravelly quality. He sliced his hand through the air, gesturing towards the front gate. "The mad king is dead – Gangrel is no more."

He watched the two men go then realized from the ache in his jaw he'd been clenching his teeth. He shook his head and sighed. _It's over... I can't believe it's over._

"Well, that was fun," Gaius said. The redhead patted his pockets before pulling out two strawberry tarts. "Let's celebrate early, eh?"

"Gaius," Chrom started as he took the tart from the other man, "where do you even keep these? How are they not squished?" He would have asked how the thief could even think of food at a time like this, but they'd traveled together long enough he knew Gaius' thoughts were never far from sweets.

"A thief never reveals his secrets. You gonna eat that or should I have kept it?" He shoved his in his mouth all at once, uttering a satisfied grunt. "Schtrawbewies..."

Chrom hesitated, inspecting the tart. It was small and the edges were a little crumbled, but it was otherwise intact. The other man watched him with raised eyebrows, so he took a bite. It was surprisingly good.

"I was serious about the cake though, Blue," Gaius told him, licking his fingers. "After all this? I want a big cake. And an even bigger sack of candy. Y'know, as a reward for turning over a new leaf and watchin' yer back while you took on the big guy."

"I haven't forgotten. I suppose you want a party in your favour as well," he added wryly.

"What? Gods no! I don't need no high class people starin' at me."

"I'm sure Lissa would love to plan a party. Especially if I tell her it's for you."

The red head flushed and his eyes grew wide. "What – now wait just a minute! –"

"Sire!"

They both turned to see Frederick, looking completely unscathed and only a little sweaty, rushing towards them through the front gate. His heavy armor clanked with each step, and he halted in front of them breathing hard.

"What is it?" Chrom demanded, expecting bad news. He braced himself, wondering what could have happened now. He'd defeated Gangrel, was it too much to hope that it would be the end of this madness?

"The remaining Plegian forces," the knight said, "they're surrendering en masse!"

Chrom blinked. _Cut off the head of the snake,_ he thought. Clasping his friend on the shoulder he said: "Order our forces to cease fighting at once. The war is over."

Frederick nodded curtly. "Yes, sir!"

"Y'know," Gaius said as they watched Frederick hurry back out the way he'd come, "that man is way too eager. It's... unnatural."

Chrom chuckled and shook his head. "That's just the way he's always been."

Gaius grunted and the prince opened his mouth to resume their previous conversation – he wanted to know how the man felt about his sister – but the question stuck in his throat as he saw Arkelle burst through the gate. Her long hair tangled about her shoulders, her coat had a tear, and her face was smudged. He saw the relief cross her face as she saw him too.

"Chrom!"

He didn't stop to think about what he was doing. He ran towards her, leaving Gaius standing as he was. Arkelle ran to meet him and when they met she threw her arms around his neck. She smelled like dirt and sweat, but he supposed he did as well.

"I thought I was too late," she whispered into his shoulder, clinging to him. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. For the first time, it felt like he was the one comforting her.

Arkelle was a strong woman. Considering how they'd found her, alone in a field with no memories, she'd always managed to stay on the positive side of each new situation and continue striding forward. She'd never expressed doubts in him or in the fight he'd pulled her into. Now, for the first time, he was seeing the fragile side of her. She'd been afraid of losing him.

"I'm okay," he said into her hair. He closed his eyes, letting the last of the tension drain from his body. He _was_ okay. He'd avenged his sister and peace would be granted to both Ylisse and Plegia.

Things were going to be alright.

She pulled back, dropping her hands, and he let her go reluctantly. For a brief moment he'd entertained the idea that he'd been holding the woman he loved. Last week he might have said yes and burst into a cheesy confession – something about her being the wind at his back and the sword at his side – but now... Arkelle meant so much to him. So did many of the other Shepherds. They were family. His family. They'd fought and laughed and died next to one another. No, they'd _lived_ alongside each other.

And she didn't feel that way about him. Looking down at her face – pale and dirt-smudged but smiling – he saw a deep caring there but not love. Not passion, at least not for him. Was that such a bad thing? He was surprised to find it didn't hurt as much as he'd thought.

"I'm so sorry," she told him. "I meant to be with you when you faced Gangrel. We'd agreed on it and I'd given my word. I –"

"It's alright –"

"Yeah, I had his back Bubbles," Gaius said, appearing at Chrom's shoulder with his arms crossed. "What, don't I get a hug too? Am I sensing favouritism?"

Arkelle laughed and launched herself at the redhead. Chrom smiled. It _was_ over.

"Okay, easy on my neck there – Bubbles? Hey, you can let go now – I can't breathe!"

She gave Gaius a final squeeze before releasing him. When she stepped back, her smile faded and she said: "They're surrendering out front. Freddy is telling everyone to stand down. It's over."

"It is," Chrom agreed.

"You're bloody right it is!"

The three of them turned to see Flavia striding in, her blond hair wild and a glint of adrenaline in her eyes. Basilio followed on her heels.

"It is good to see you in one piece," Chrom said. He could tell from their expressions the two saw the battle in a much different light. For a moment he'd been too caught up in the fact it was over. The fight was, but there was much more to do. Much more to be looked after. A war did not simply end with one man. Both Plegia and Ylisse would need to be put back together, and that would take time for both countries to lick their wounds.

Basilio seemed to understand. Nodding, the big man said: "Victory can be bitter as well as sweet, boy. It's good you learn that now."

He smiled wryly.

Flavia snorted, putting her hands on her hips and glaring at her fellow Khan. "Regna Ferox lost a good many soldiers today. We need to see to our dead. Then it will be time to attend the living and rebuild our army."

"I'm sorry Flavia," Chrom told her. "Your sacrifice will not be forgotten."

"Your help was invaluable," Arkelle added, extending a hand to the fierce woman. "I'm glad to have had the privilege of fighting at your side."

"Likewise," Flavia laughed, gripping the tactician's extended hand firmly and shaking it.

"I – argh" Arkelle's face froze, her brows drawn tight and her mouth hanging open. Then she bent double, her hands braced on her knees and her shoulders shaking.

"Arkelle?"

"Is she alright?"

"She eat some rotten fudge or somethin'? I swear it wasn't mine."

"Did she catch an arrow when you weren't looking?"

Chrom touched her shoulder hesitantly. She shuddered and slowly straightened back up, one hand clasped to her head and half-covering her face.

"What is it?" he asked. "Are you injured?" He cursed himself for not noticing earlier.

"No," she rasped. "No I'm not... I'm not hurt. It's just... I'll be fine in a minute."

He frowned and pulled her hand from her face. "You're not fine. What is it?"

"A headache," she said. She didn't meet his eyes when she said it. "I just... I need some rest."

"I should say so," Basilio rumbled. The big man was frowning, his one eye narrowed. "You're shaking like a leaf! A good tactician is hard to find," he added to Chrom, "you might want to look after this one."

The prince nodded, still frowning. "I plan to." He glanced at Gaius. "Will you make sure she gets back to camp and rests? I've other things I must attend to first." After a moment's thought he added: "And if you see Cordelia, send her to me. I could use her help."

The thief nodded, threading an arm under Arkelle's shoulders despite her protests. Chrom didn't like it much – he'd have preferred to make sure she got there himself – but he was the Prince and the war was over. He had duties and soldiers to attend to.

Life would not quiet down just because one more man was dead.

_Blood,_ he thought idly as Flavia and Basilio discussed their desire to leave as quickly as possible, _always blood._


	49. Chapter 49

**Guys! This is the last chapter of this crazy story you've followed me through! Thanks to each and every reader - I sure hope you've enjoyed it. There will be an epilogue/sequel coming shortly (I'll post it as a separate story cuz it's almost 9,000 words...). It focuses on Chrom and.. well, you'll have to read to see ;)**

**/Zen**

* * *

When I woke the next day, the sun was already filtering through the tent canvas. I jolted up straight, shoving my hair out of my face. My dreams had been dark again, and they'd held me so tightly that waking had been like clawing my way out of a mud pit. It took a long moment for me to remember the battle was over and for my heart to slow.

I stood once I felt I could do so without falling over. With a grimace I realized I was still in the clothes I'd worn from the day before. My breeches were dusty and my linen shirt felt stiff. Ugh, I really needed a bath.

With that in mind, I strapped on my belt out of habit, gathered a cleaner set of clothes, and exited my tent.

It wasn't as late as I'd thought initially. I moved through camp without seeing much of anyone. From the amount of snoring I heard, it seemed most everyone had been given leave to sleep in and sleep off the battle of yesterday. The Feroxi soldiers, however, had set out as soon as they'd been able to load up in the nearest village. Flavia had been determined to cover as much ground as possible before nightfall. Not that they'd have gotten all that far – her men would've been just as exhausted as we were.

And then there was me. Almost fainting in front of anyone.

Sighing, I entered the bathing tent and set to heating up the water. Steam rose and I could feel it already easing the aches I hadn't realized I was harbouring. My arms and side were bruised a dark purple. The bruise on my shoulder was actually yellow _and_ purple, which I found to be an amusing combination. Ramming a knight in the stomach had not been one of my smartest moves. But it still wasn't worth a healer. If anything, I actually kind of wanted to show it off. A brilliant bruise if ever there was such a thing.

My mind drifted back to my dreams. Why was I still having them? Gangrel was dead and the darkness that threatened Ylisse had passed. I knew that. Yet an evil still haunted me. And the headaches...

I was glad the fighting was over. I worried I might be more of a burden than anything else. What if I'd had that headache in the middle of the battlefield? I would've been an easy target for any Plegian. As much as I didn't want to admit it, I needed this break and I wouldn't be the only one. We'd all spread ourselves thin to get this done.

Shaking my head and trying to push the thoughts aside, I slid into my bath. The hot water enveloped me, easing my muscles and worries. I didn't soak long, but I did enjoy the silence. For once there was nothing to plan for, and no battle to wage.

_What am I going to do with myself?_ The thought actually made me chuckle. What would life be like without war? I didn't know, but I was determined to enjoy it.

My stomach rumbled a reminder that maybe I should eat something before thinking too far ahead and I climbed out, drying off.

I hurried into my clean breeches and tucked my shirt in, strapping the thick belt over top. I paused over the last buckle. What would it be like to... dress normally? The people in the villages we'd passed on our campaign hadn't worn swords. The women had mostly worn dresses.

I couldn't remember ever having worn a dress, and didn't particularly want to start now. They were so impractical! I'd be constantly worried about showing too much leg or wrecking the cloth. With a derisive snort I dismissed the idea. No dresses for this tactician.

_But you won't be a tactician anymore, will you?_

The thought came unbidden. A part of me had assumed I'd continue to serve Chrom, but I wasn't sure if that would be the case. What need would he have of me? It wasn't like I had any experience running a country. I knew little of farms or trade or balls. All I seemed to know was battle. What good would that do me now?

I was definitely thinking too much. Squaring my shoulders, I decided I'd see to breakfast and then go find Chrom. If he had a use from me, I'd go from there. Otherwise, I'd figure something else out.

Sweeping out of the tent, I turned the corner – and smacked right into a solid chest. I coughed and looked up as I took a step back.

"Lon'qu – "

"Excuse me," he said. He barely looked at me. Side stepping, he kept going.

I flushed and clutched my hand to my chest. Why was he acting this way? A sorrow stronger than the pain I felt from my bruises constricted my heart. Swallowing hard, I shook my head and hurried after him, grabbing onto his jacket and wrenching him to face me. This was _not_ going to be the way things happened. If he had a problem, he was going to have to say it to my face. I wasn't going to hide in the corner wondering what I'd done, and I wouldn't beg either.

"What is the matter with you?" I demanded, glaring up at him. "I thought we were getting along so well – I'm sorry I wasn't able to deal with that mage on my own, but I really think your ignoring me is pushing it a little too far. What happened to the things you said? Was I – was I imagining it?" I asked, steeling myself for the answer. I didn't want to think the look I'd seen in his eyes had been all in my head. I didn't want to believe the emotion I'd heard behind his words was false. I didn't want to be wrong – but I refused to stand by and hold onto some shallow hope. I wouldn't stand here and yearn after him. I was no silly peasant girl collecting flowers and picking off the petals one after another.

Lon'qu's jaw flexed and he turned his head away.

"Don't do that," I snapped. I took a breath, not wanting to fight. "If you have something to say – if you've changed your mind or if I was just wrong and you never felt that way about me – then just come right out and say it. If nothing else, respect me enough to tell me now."

His eyes darted back to my face and I thought I saw a shadow of shock in their depths. "I – I don't... I can't do this." He shook his head and exhaled heavily, running a hand through his dark hair leaving it standing up in wayward spikes. "Gods, why does this have to be so vexing!"

"What? You can't... because you're afraid?"

"Yes," he said, surprising me with his fierceness. "I am afraid. I am afraid of losing you – and I was _this close_ yesterday." His fingers measured a small space in front of my face. "This close to failing all over again. I can't... I can't do it. I can't do it again."

"Oh... Lon'qu," I said softly. He turned and looked like he might leave again, but I grabbed onto his wrist. "Don't run away from me. It's okay, I'm still here – "

"Don't you understand?" he demanded. "I can't protect you. I will fail again – and I can't have that on my conscience. I was foolish to have thought otherwise."

"Why does it have to be you protecting me? Why can't we protect each other – I'm pretty handy with a sword and my tomes. And if those fail," I added, "I could always pelt them with figs..."

For a moment I thought the joke had sailed right over his head, but then his eyebrow twitched and the corner of his mouth quirked. I smiled, drawing closer until I stood directly in front of him.

"You and those damned figs," he muttered.

I laughed, relief flooding me.

"Arkelle..." he paused and I tried to memorize the way it sounded when he said my name. "What you said a moment past... I've been meaning to talk to you about something."

"Yes?"

His hand rose hesitantly and he tucked some of my damp hair behind my ear. His fingers were rough but warm. "You've never... you've never cast a spell on me, have you? Slipped me a potion when I wasn't looking?"

Snickering, I shook my head. "As much as I love to tease you, no, of course not. Why do you ask?"

"I see," he said softly. "Then... this feeling in my heart is from natural causes."

"You look a little green Lon'qu," I joked, "are you feeling alright?"

"No," he said shaking his head, "no I do not think I am. It is frightening but... wonderful. You see," he paused, taking both my hands in his, "it appears that I've grown quite... fond of you."

"Can you say that one more time?" I asked. "Just for the record?"

He snorted, tugging me closer until he had to tilt his face down to look at me. "I said, you fig-minx, that I've grown... fond of you."

"You said _quite_ fond," I corrected him, although I was having a hard time concentrating while this close to him. He gave me a millimeter smile that pushed all further thought of jokes from my mind. My heart tripped in my chest and my cheeks grew warm. There was barely a breath of space between us and my hands tingled with warmth where he held them.

"Yes," he said, his voice dropping to deep whisper, "quite. But I must know, if I'm to be so tortured, do you share my feelings? Even a little bit?"

"Well," I began, but looking up at his face the witty reply I'd planned dissolved. "Yes. I've... come to care for you too, Lon'qu. Deeply."

He closed the space between us then, hesitating only a moment before pressing his mouth against mine. His kiss was warm and electrifying, making me feel weightless. I could have floated right off the ground into the clouds yet I wouldn't have noticed. He was the only thing that kept me grounded as the rest of the camp ceased to exist around us. There was only Lon'qu. His mouth on mine, his hands holding mine to his chest.

When he pulled back, I blinked up at him and said breathlessly: "Amazing... it seems your phobia of women is completely gone!"

"No," he said, his voice rough and gravelly. He seemed to only just now realize what he'd done. A blush stained his cheeks. "It's just... it's only gone with you."

I chuckled. "That might be the greatest compliment I've ever been paid."

"Oi, did Gregor miss big moment?!"

We stepped apart and turned together, seeing Gregor standing a few feet away from us with hands spread out. He was sparsely dressed in a light tunic and leather leggings. His boots were scuffed with dirt and his red hair was mussed.

"Miss what?" I asked.

"The kissing! Do not lie to old Gregor – he can tell when kiss has been happening!"

I laughed and Gregor joined in when we realized how red Lon'qu had turned. I twined my fingers with his. We would look after one another, from now on and no matter what came. No matter what the world had in store for us now that the war was over. I would never give him up.


End file.
